Crispy winds and violet lights
The setting sun in pale moonlight
An overcast hung amidst the stagnant air
Consumed the last of the dying flare
A lone wanderer lost in the maze
Signs of weariness crept across his face
Off in the distance, a beacon lit
Pierced the shroud of despair, bit by bit
Like a guiding star’s watchful gaze
She guided him home with an angel’s grace
Now sleeping peacefully in the cradle of love
Curled up under the light, as a pair of doves