Waxing Crescent

The sun setting

Tired of one-sided giving

Wanders in a circle for a fresh perspective

Leaving royal hues in its dignified steps

The birds can finally rest from singing praises to God

Nesting in branches reaching to Heaven

That magical hour culminating at 11:11

The blue moon gives,
though the Earth isn't as receptive

Though they're both the same

Always in flux and in different phase

Its light is softer and seems inconstant

Enough to warrant the reflection of one's conscience

The dark and its failure to be understood

Instead always interpreted as death and the lack of good

The lack of fullness and the power of its potential

The body of humanity rests under its mantle