Moonlight

It softly shines down through the skies,

The moonlight on the snow

And listens to the silent cries

Made on the dust below.

It seems aloof from us of dust,

But is that really so?

For down she shines from worlds we trust

Upon the earth below.

Its light, not bright, is soft and pale,

A sweet and silver glow.

She guides us through our twisted trail

We mortals here below.

The softest voice can scarce be heard

As many here should know.

The smallest voice that can’t be heard

Belongs to us below.

The darkness presses ever near

Here in this world of snow.

Be not afraid—hope will appear

And come to us below.

Author Notes: One of the few poems I've written that actually has any form of structure. Thanks for reading!