If his dreams were something new

he could care more for the haunted night.

Sleepless, he lay burden by the clouds

of dust and dreams. The planets and the stars

glow hidden in the silence,

as the hill acts as a blanket,

being the brillow of the swooning night sky.

As the gentle undertow makes the moon fly,

he awakes. Burnt, as is prone of the burdened,

he wistfully wishs it would be tomorrow.