Crescent by Ruiting Zhao

Down falls the velvet veil,

Night descends upon the port.

Starlight scatters on the dark waters,

And ripples advance, 

Urged by an unseen force.

The crescent arises on the horizon,

Lady of the nighttime sky,

Floating among the clouds with head held high,

Dabbing the waves with pearly light.

The tide falls into a trance,

Fading in and out;

Their sighs as they gently slap the sand,

Become the only sound.

Still the crescent is unsatisfied,

On she continues to sail;

Spreading molten silver around for miles,

Spilling some over sleeping whales.

Night stretches on,

But ’tis dark no longer.

Shifting shadows have gone,

Replaced by the crescent’s murmurs.

The crescent’s lullaby drifts through the still night air,

Setting petrified sleepers free

From the jaws of their nightmares,

And tugs over them blankets of sweet dreams.

Yet rainbow bubbles pop on the tips of sails,

As the first brink of golden light punctures night’s veil.

Sunlit furnace melts away surreal bliss,

And marshmallow clouds dissolve into mist.

As the last strokes of silvery paint

Shrivel, peel, and crumble away;

Crescent hisses from behind solid golden bars

what she always has to say:

“See you all again tonight;

For there is no way to escape

from your deepest and strongest desires,

When they wear borrowed robes of innocent light.”