In the dead of night, a faint stirring outside
Draw the curtains apart, and the full moon stares back
A premonition, bordering on a vision
Stirring around for slippers
Feeling them filled by your own cold feet,
and then the creak of getting up from the bed,
finally opening the front door

Chilly air from the dark night, a sign of what's to come
Raised arms to embrace the creator, and instinctively sensing what's about to happen next
As expected, a shooting star, validation from above
No one believes me, because they haven't been heaven-sent

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