Wednesday, 2 August 2017
THE MOON
Her waters run deep...
As I stare at her
Silver complexion
She grabs me by the hair.
Sometimes her waves
Are confusing.
Sometimes she plays
With her muddy waters.
Sometimes monsters arise.
Sometimes I just cave in
And crush like a porcelain doll
Into numerous pieces
Into dust.
Until... I emerge... again...
Who's to say what's coming?
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