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Poetry and Writings

MOON WANING


MOON WANING

S.JENSEN (C) 2018

(UNKNOWN DATE WRITTEN)

ICY WIND WHIPPED

ACROSS THE ROAD

THE SPOKES OF THE CART

SCREAMS LIKE A DEMON

TEARING AT THESE

CLOTHES

LIKE A LONE HAND

HEAVY SNOW RODE

THE GALE

SHARDS OF ICE

ARE TRYING TO

BE LIKE RE WEAPONING

A SHARP SWORD DULL

BLANKETING THE

HIGHLANDS FROM

THE VALLEY BELOW

A RIPPING GASP FROM

HER CHEST

A SMALL GRACE

ON A DAY

MORE MISERABLE

THAN COULD BE

REMEMBERED

STUCK LIKE A WOUND

FROM THE BLUNT END

OF NOW THE

BATTLE PIKE

SHE LAY CURLED ON HER

SIDE FEW BELONGINGS

TO THE COLD SLEEP

THE PAIN WOULD

KEEP AWAKE

IF NOT FOR THE PILL

KICKING IN

OH THE JOURNEY WAS LONG

AND HAD SHOWN TIME

MARKED THE PROS

AND CONS FROM

ALL THE FAILURES

TO SUCCESSES

ALL GIVEN TO

THE PRESENT BATTLEMENTS

OF THESE RED WALLS

SACRIFICED NOTHING

FOR THEIR GRACE

TO IN SPIRE

AND SNARE

AND OH FROM THE

GIFT OF FREE LOVE

TO THE ONE

THOUGHT TO BE

TRUE LOVE

THE LOST FOURTH

QUEEN OF THE NEW MOON

THE LIONESE

OF THE HILLS

NOW WRAPPED IN

INTERIOR FOUNTAINS

AN ERR ON THE SIDE

OF SIMPLICITY

THROUGH DIFFERENT EYES

WHERE ONCE SHE

WAS TAKEN

FOR GRANTED

BEAUTY OF YOUTH

AND STRENGTH

WITH LITTLE THOUGHT

FOR THE

YEARS TO COME

OF CREATORS

IN THE PROSPEROUS

REIGN OF

A MERCIFULLY

UNEVENTED CHAOS

OPEN WINDOW

IN HER

CHAMBERS

UP ABOVE CARRY

SOUNDS

BELOW

THE WINTERS DEEP

STRIKING TO KILL

WHAT WAS BEFORE

FORCED TO ACCEPT

AND TO HEAL A WOUND

LEFT FROM

DEATH'S GRIP

ON HER HEART

SOMETHING ABOUT

THAT CONVERSATION

ONLY IF THE BEATING

ONE THAT LIVES

AND STILL CRIES

KNOWS IT STRUCK

IF THEY DIDN'T THEY

DO KNOW NOW

AND TOO EASY WILL

THE DOOR BE ALLOWED

TO SLOWLY CLOSE

FOR YOU LOSE

NOTHING

BEFORE SAYING

ANYTHING

SCREAMING IN HER HEAD

LET THIS NOT BE

A CRUEL JOKE

ITS NO JOKE

WHERE IS THE POINT OF

A TRAITOR AND IS

THEIR EVEN ONE

THE CARDS HAVEN'T LIED

SO NOW ITS

JUST A MATTER OF TIME

WILL THE TRUTH

EVER BE KNOWN

FROM THIS NOW

WANING MOON

TO PULL THE ENERGY

NEEDED TO FIND

A TRUTH WORTH WHILE

OH TO THE ONE

WITH LOVE AND HOW

SHE STILL FEELS SUCH

A FOOL

THE BALANCED SCALES

IN MY HAND

NO LONGER HAVE THE

FEATHER TO THE TALON

CLAW

DOING WHAT WE ARE

WHO WE ARE

FOR THE SAKE OF

THE ONLY WORLD WE HAVE

THERE IS NO GUILT

IN THAT NOR BLAME

I WILL EXCEPT

THIS KEY UNLOCKS

AROUND MY NECK

AND EMPTY SPOT

A DEEPEN HOLE

THAT WISHES TO BE

FILLED

OH A BROKEN LOCK

TO THE SURFACE

SOMEWHERE

THE DEEP CUT

IN THE SIDE OF THE

HAND

GIVES NOTHING AWAY

JUST LIKE

THE NOW PERFECT SILENCE

WILL THE COLD

RETURN SO BRUTAL

OR WILL IT FOREVER

LEAVE US BE

TURNED AWAY

TO THE WARMTH

OF THE HEARTH

TIME IS NEVER

ON ONES SIDE

THE HOURGLASS

STILL TIKS AWAY

THE SAND SECOND

BY SECOND

... TO BE GIVEN

FROM THE PHOENIX ASHES

LIFE FROM OUR

DUST TO DUST

AND SEASONS CYCLE

TURNING IN AND OUT

THE WORLD GOES ON

IN THIS LOST ONES

VIEW OF NOTHING

ITS IS THE WAY IT IS

NOW

THE CHOICES OF

CERTAINTY

TO THE DARKEN

PULSE OF WHAT

MAKES ONES

BLOOD CHANGE

FROM BLUE TO RED

OH MY DREAMS

AND HOW THEY STILL

SPARK MEMORIES...

IN WRITING MY

STORIES... OF THEM

MY HEART IS NOW

JUST RESTING...

FOR A NEW DAY

WILL COME AROUND

WHEN THE MOON

IS FULL AGAIN

ITS HOW I AM

FOR MY LOVE CARRIES

THAT WAY...

EVEN IF ITS NOW

DEEP INSIDE OF ME

ONLY.


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