Moving is easier, Moving on is a feeling,
A temptation, a judgement, or an act of letting it go.
Her heart can feel the scars when she looks at the star.
They wink at night by giving a glimpse of light,
The moon smiles with light to warm the night.
No thinking out loud, but thinking about...
The feeling of scars is the torn paper,
She tries to discover the colors under the umbrella,
There is no sky but try.
A voice, an echo, the first verse for her first love:
The lust is rusted with trust,
Trust is a must to last,
But, Last has just Past.
She put the umbrella aside,
She begins to change the rhythm,
Her rhythm of joy:
When you know the moon has found its star,
Protecting their future light,
They way they smile will shine the day.
I will be the shooting star
To continue their spark,
In the darkness of heart.
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