Warmth of the Moonlit Nights

I followed the dark road before me,
Crickets chirp while leaves fall,
It grew colder by the vast sea,
But I didn't hear your call.

Each night I walked another mile,
My voice cold once again,
Showing the world an empty smile,
I picked up a pen.

Writing helps to heal the mind,
The ink drying red on the page,
Too many nights he would find,
My heart sealed shut in a cage.

But one night the darkness grew,
Singing no longer soothing me,
At the bars I began to chew,
And then I did look to see.

Those bright blue eyes so sweet,
Determined to set me free,
The devil I wouldn't meet,
He had brought me the key.

A caged songbird will not sing a song,
Just as a writer without a pen,
I finally was free in so long,
Feeling as if it was back then.

My heart aflutter with peace at last,
The moon showing through the cloud,
I was letting go of my past,
Singing ever so loud.