Of moonlit nights and shady recollections

The naked light boasting with pride from the lamp across the swamp danced with the curve of her eye glass. She could see the reflection of that light upon her arm, giving it the very form. She could see it manifesting its existence against the still water in that swamp (thanks to monsoon and algae). Above in the cosmos, there was this diva of smoked cloud, making a magnificent crack in the universe with the light of moon. The moonlight played hide and seek with the highs and lows of its intensity. She could see the beauty of the diva of night, presenting its cloud like hue before the moon: god of liquor and mercury. She could see how the cloud fell in love with immensity of that silver glimmer.
And thus she knew its fate. It had to drift apart. The cloud cannot
stand before this god like beauty because it then shall be perished like a maddened moth. Thus, it drifted apart, with god of liquor and mercury flickering at the prime of its pride, spreading its glory all over the sky. She then knew why she was feeling high. The air was so filled with the liquor, she couldn't even distinguish between light falling on her arm, defining its very form. Although she eventually chose to believe it was the light from the lamp across...
In the background, there was Silence of dragonfly's buzz and frog's croak.
Maybe cricket's shrieks too.
And soft breeze was bringing news from Roman castles and Middle Ages chapels, somewhere far in Eastern Europe. Maybe from Romania.