Moaning and Morning Game

In the depths of night's darkness, where shadows play
Lies a silence so profound, it chokes the light of day
A moaning echoes through, a sorrow so divine
A cry that pierces the soul, like a wound that's hard to define

It's the sound of hearts breaking, of dreams that have been torn
Of hopes that have been shattered, like a mirror that's been scorned
It's the voice of the forgotten, of those who have been left behind
A moaning that resonates, like a requiem that's hard to unwind

But then comes the morning, with its light so bold and bright
A new beginning unfolds, like a canvas that's waiting to be ignited
The morning game begins, with its rules so unclear
A dance of love and lust, of hearts that are both sincere and severe

In this game of morning love, we search for solace and peace
A respite from the night's pain, a balm to heal the soul's release
We seek the warmth of touch, the comfort of a loving embrace
A shelter from the darkness, a refuge from the night's cold space

But the moaning never fades, it echoes through the day.