In the moonlit grove, shadows weave,
Childlike laughter disappears beneath the sigh of trees,
A peculiar waltz, unspoken yet haunting,
Delicate as silk, heavy as regret.
The sky wore a tattered blanket of dreams,
Monsters played hopscotch in the depths of laughter,
Bones of dreams lay scattered in the glow of lanterns,
Glittering like distant stars, yet nearer to home.
Skipping through memories, they found broken mirrors,
And laughter echoing in rooms long since sealed,
Where secrets danced in the silence,
Unraveling stories of dusk and delight.
What if our shadows waltzed with spirits unseen?
Twirling 'round the bent lampposts,
Where crickets sing elegies in the dark,
Telling tales too twisted to tell.
Visit the Glistening Misery for more response to the dark,
or gather particles of light at Fragments of Joy.