Sorrow Moon

Till death do we part....

Absence of air, untouched by love, beating rage in a sorrow moon;

thinking not as that of a monster, but feeling the warmth of love from within the lagoon.

Stalking at every moment like a bird of prey, keeping hid by fading shadows, dim lights gaze over the

long exposed walk of shame.

Through brush and brine I can for-see their future, very soon another person marveled into an

unknown fame.

Heart racing through veins of cold, mouth begins to water for such a delight;

every inch, every minute, it feels oh so right.

Withdrawn is the blade of souls, for it bares the names of those who see gold,

only time will tell, for my soul remains to them till this day ages old.

Time has come, for she sets forth this magnificent trap,

lunging from thick brush and brine, now she knows she is the next poor sap.

A treat of all treats, for now she sleeps,

a work of all works must go unseen; a secret I shall keep.

Parting ways out to the lagoon, she is a beauty to my beast,

on such a beautiful moon she plunders under for the fish will feast.

To die small and alone, creepy in my own sort of way,

so shall the next be obliged to portray.

The End

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