The Lake [Decided to embellish on a previous poem and haiku]

A City of stars,
Right up in the sky,
White rays of light like bars,
The wind a gentle sigh.

The leaves brush across my skin,
The moon glowing like a ghost,
Night personified my kin,
The cold dark lake my host.

The moon hangs high,
Among a pool of ink,
that engulfs the starry sky,
each star a glowing wink.