The heavens are cloaked in a thick blanket of clouds,
Their texture close and heavy, casting a wan hue,
Obscuring the moon, only faintly seen through the veil.
A towering structure emerges, shrouded in mist,
A majestic edifice that lifts my spirits high,
As I delve into ancient tomes beneath the cantaloupe tree.
The fronds glisten with a radiant glow of belief,
As gentle raindrops delicately descend upon them.
~ Whenever the stars and moon retreat,
Whenever the winds howl with might,
Throughout the dark and wet night, a man rides,
Galloping tirelessly through the gloom.
Late at night, when the fires have extinguished,
Why does he persistently gallop and roam?
Whenever the trees wail with a mournful sound,
And ships are battered by the raging sea,
He speeds along the highway, low and boisterous,
Gallop after gallop, he...