Frail hands grazed,
hue of tinted blue 
peppered white uneven specks
gliding across
skinny pale of five 
under dented knuckles

Gradient dark blue 
battling over pitch darkness
seemingly a tug of war,
stealing limelight
of a forlorn scenery
for a gloomy enthusiast

It flaunted,
that moment it showed
not an inch of an antagonist
she was the star, 
at least most of her was
her ego filled with divinity

Within opposite pole,
everything left neglected
only what shown beyond mattered
She felt no remorse
for seizing a moment of fame
For once, time was hers to take
and a show was hers to make

Above moonlit stream
the sky remained unsettled 
It fickle through the night
filtered stars,
ricocheting all through
the breezy coldness
as it abides her rest a little later
For she know, later, 
the stage will open up
to a new protagonist

Morning Skies
would soon be awakened
and she would again 
be left waiting
and forgotten…