a night mantled in silence, <br />as the veiled-moon <br />clings to solitude. <br />the past marred her luster. <br />contemplating... <br />his mental faculties <br />drown out her inner voice. <br /> <br />she cleaves a path <br />through the thicket, <br />her sense of propriety <br />downtrodden by desire <br /> <br />the firmness of her grip <br />is now tapering off <br />growing hours of madness <br />half-ruled with <br />passion...<br /><br />Alice Cuenca<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-blue-moon-2/
