What a ride,The blues of that midnight,
Would not have been,
For the darkness strained on for the visionaries,
Shine on moon,
Your delicate beams shone in an impish scene,
Only the nocturnal creatures scurrying in the brush have seen,
The searing darkness wore out this pretext of a beautiful game,
Of those colbalt and prussian blues,
Sweetly challenging those faded aquamarines for their space,
One could feel the soft kiss of the viridians adventure,
Journeying back towards the soft glow of dawn.
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