The moon, half dead, <br />gave an eerie glow, <br />consoled by clouds, <br />she laid with motions slow; <br />poisoned by her pain, <br />she looked down at me <br />buried her soul in her head, <br />covered by clouds' canopy- <br />only to rise again; <br />to rise when the sun rises, <br />to set when the sun sets. <br />To be close to the sun's glare, <br />she crossed the sky with her. <br />to be seen in silhouette against her reign <br />she stood a midst her pain <br />in front of her sun... <br />her only sun.<br /><br />Jessel Jane Tevar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/new-moon-21/
