The Moon Is My locker Room

 The moon is my locker room,

where I have kept my dreams safe.

Safe, from the clutches of the stygian night

That growls at my desires every day!

The day my dreams were sabotaged,

the moon fell to the ground.

Wounded and bleeding. 

That night the moon slept beside me while I sewed its wounds with my verses.

We shared our dreams and longings for hours.

In the morning she left with a heavy heart.

Her wounds were treated

but her heart kept bleeding.

In her tears, I could see her unfulfilled desires

and complaints against the world

that taunted her for the patches on her body.

Little did they understand that these little imperfections make one perfect.

In her waning, I found my reflection.

The next night she was up in the sky's bosom again.

Ready to subdue the world in her silver hue.

From the moon, I took a lesson;

to keep shining even on our darkest days.

To rest for a while and return with renewed vigour.

For every cloud has a silver lining.