A question, of timing, moon

Why now, 

wake me?

The answer

lies before

my eyes.

Crescent moon

in clouds,

yet smile,

your last

my way.

And though,

near dark,

also times’

seeming veil

pulled down.

Yet light

comes from,

even the 

dark side,

upon waiting.

So answer

you gave

of me,

to least 

expect nothingness.

One cycle,

as we,

now plunge,

into lustrous

black silence.

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