Poem from song by Vicky Leandros

AI-ChatGPT5-T.Chr.-Human Synthesis-18 September 2025

I would have missed it,the slow lift of the night,the red eye of the moonstaring down with its fever.

Red is the love,bright and reckless,a burning fruit that splits in your hands.Red is the wound that answers,the kiss that never heals,the silence after the cry.

Some have already died there,on the crimson shore of longing,their shadows folded into the tide.

Blue is the grief,the dream of water running warm,a bath where sorrow might dissolvelike salt in a basin.Blue is the hush after laughter,the aching breath you hold too long,the shape of absence in a crowded room..But too much truth is always stupid—the heart cracks under its weight.

So truth becomes a mask,a dancer’s veil,a hand extended and withdrawn.Here is your red pain,here is the pulse that refuses to rest.Come dance with it—come dance with me.

Here and there,between shadow and tide,we whirl in the silence of the moon,red and blue weavinga song only the night remembers.