In the heart of night, where shadows play,
A tale unfolds, in the moon's soft array.
A canvas of stars, a celestial sea,
Whispers of dreams, as the night turns key.
Beneath the canopy, shadows entwine,
A symphony of silence, a dance divine.
Mysteries unravel in the velvet gloom,
As the moon presides, casting silver plume.
Through the ebon tapestry, stories unfold,
A whispered narrative, ancient and bold.
Midnight's secrets in the stillness reside,
Echoes of time in the moonlight abide.
On a meandering path through the dreamscape,
Twinkling stars like fireflies agape.
Each one a story, a luminescent verse,
In the cosmic library, where dreams immerse.
As the night deepens, the world takes flight,
In the tapestry of time, woven tight.
Constellations weave tales untold,
In the celestial ballet, myths unfold.
The nocturnal symphony, an ethereal rhyme,
Echoes through the corridors of space and time.
Through the quietude, a serenade so sweet,
The cosmos and dreams, in harmony meet.
The owl's hoot, a lullaby on the breeze,
Whispers of ancient, rustling trees.
A nocturne painted in shades of indigo,
Where secrets linger, and fantasies grow.
Stars above, witnesses to the night's embrace,
A celestial waltz, full of mystery and grace.
As the dawn approaches, with a golden kiss,
The nocturnal sonnet concludes its bliss.
About the Creator
Mel Legre
God fearing, and gospel worker. Telling the story about anything.
Hidden secrets in the Bible site:
www.watv.org
Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis5 days ago in Humans
Comments (2)
The mysterious chemistry of the unpredictable yet intentional connection leads to the revealing and uncovering of emotional bliss. Its Beautiful
All the imagery is beautiful!