Moon In Shadowed Cloak
Walking on the moonlit path of the strand,
My footsteps found their way upon the sand
While contemplating the note you left for me
I heard the sea calling, "Come to me.
Come to me."
Tempting notion, the moon frowned from high
Waves washed over my feet, should I live or die?
Moon hid somber eyes behind a thick black cloud.
It donned a shadowed cloak, a mourning shroud.
What is left when the zest has been grated?
Sour remnants of memories, those now hated.
Bitter pith which no one would want to taste.
Decayed and adulterated love, gone to waste.
Forthcoming was my fate; a decision to befall.
Waves crashed in summoning call, "Come to me.
Come to me."
|