Under the stars!


I can always envision a prosaic creature,
The early to bed is the person's feature.

But everyone has own perception,
For few bloom of youth is sunshine;
For few working under the stars is passion.

Maybe it's time for scrimmages amidst thoughts,
Few just think and overthink:
And fall asleep while reading Frost's.

For few it's time for peace;
Many just simply lay down
and fall asleep.

Few fall into nostalgia while listening songs,
Rest just ponder over silly matters-
Was I right or wrong?

You know why I long for night period,
Maybe the moonshine blows off the day's mud.

Naah! Just because I love dark,
From every black corner, there comes a spark.

I weave my dreams during this time,
Wandering-which would be my next crime?

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