With each shooting star
fading into the night
I need to make a wish.
A wish for strength
to pick the moon from the sky
as a gift to you,
to change the flow of a river
when you are crying.
Somebody give me the strength
to remember the moment
that the hour missed a minute
when I looked into your eyes,
only then I will be able
not to want to be with you.
Give me strength
for the nights to come
without shooting stars and
wishes for you in my arms.
Like whispers of silver
They light up the night sky
Just enough to catch a wish
Or carry a message
To the souls who dream
To the souls who wait
And to the souls that still believe
In the magic that they hold.
For those of us who dream
Our souls will always wait
For what we believe in.
Copyright © Arlette Ferber. All rights reserved.
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