the moon prowls silently
and in his colors lay the test
of times sweet reckoning
Blues and grays of a day surpassed
and a dawn not far away
yet still i wake, turn and quake
for not all was said that day
And so the shadows grow
as he waits with silent jest
compelled to snare me, tear me, compare me
like all his former foes,
a cruel jest to all my woes
you really need to put an description on these poems other wise I like
ReplyDelete