When I gaze into the night sky, the moon weaves a tale
of years traversing their wilderness,
of men long forgotten yet brave,
of lyrics from historic songs triumphed in deviant battles.
The gods, concealed within the stars,
their carved light an incandescent esfera,
trespassers in abundance, waving.
Nothing captivates me more than the silent motions of eternal graveyards,
reverberating against starlight symbols of hope.
Billions of men, peering down to Earth—I yawn until I drift into the realms of slumber.
Written by Fortune Omosola
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