After the world has gone to sleep
on this hollow night,
so much depends on these little stars
the secrets that it keep

Nothing burns like the cold
baffled and deranged,
between smudges and the wholeness
hungry for the unprecedented

glimpses of you only the night has the privilege to see
searching the stars,
looking at the void
wondering if there is a void at all

just a silent observer of the world
just wants to see, to know,
perhaps to feel
Wishing someone saw the moon and saw you.