La lune est trés belle

Some people prefer to sit and watch as the sunsets. Others enjoy more the sunrise. I imagine sitting on a beach, feeling the cool salty breeze and enjoying how the rays of the sun bring light to a new day. How a new beginning emerging brings a new sense of hope.  How the colors intertwined between the blue of the ocean, the blue of the sky, and the orange of the sun. I myself prefer totally the opposite. I tend to sit down between the starry and dark sky were all is quite and still. I prefer watching the full moon shine with all is might against the vast darkness that overpowers the night.  I sit and watch and remember what beckons my heart, what turmoils my soul and keeps my mind occupied til I start to cry.  I have no answer even if my plea is great.  Even if the tears don't stop and my eyes are red. I close them and more tears run down my cheeks as if they were dying to escape.  I hold my hands together so I don't start to shake. I keep them tight to my chest to make sure my heart does not break. I shiver even though it is not cold. There is nothing nor no one to hear the cries that I swallow and are kept in my throat.  I sit and wait, wait and wait some more. I plea, I cry and I just want to scream til I can't no more.  Is a longing, a necessity, a need forevermore.  The reality of not having a reply plagues me. The truth of not knowing haunts me. The lack of hearing a familiar voice hurts me.  Lying in wait burns me within daily.  I can't control it. I look up at the sky as I dry my tears but they come again. I see the moon shine and look at the stars as if they were a resemblance of each tear I've shed.  The moon is quite and still and so am I.  She shines in the darkness as do I.  No one ever knows of her suffering and secrets because la lune est trés belle as am I.