All eyes marvel when the Moon is full.
When silver rejoices in itself against the empty space,
Pushing its rival in the background,
Innocent, stunning,
He shines brighter than his neighbours.
Eyes look away when the Moon is cut.
When a thin frame of white stands weakly against the darkened fog,
Struggling force, unvanquished nonetheless,
Tireless, daring,
A symbol for revolt and winning strength.
Eyes are lost when the Moon has vanished.
When the bleeding sea of ink and void has swallowed an angel.
Poets lose their muse, shattered like vase,
Harrowing, fallen
He is a saint of pale glow and rich charm.
But no eyes are left to wonder at the Nightsky.
Smoking, blurry,
Glooming on stars and prey,
Majestic, familiar,
Holding it all into place.
Bringer of harmony,
Jury of order,
She is only seen as a hooded sinner.
She envelops the Moon,
Steals a part of him.
Tears him until he has dissolved completely.
But dear no one, thoughtful eyes know
That the Nightsky is simply embracing him.
For the Moon's lover has drifted away until day come.
Brokenhearted, suffering,
The Nightsky is not a villain,
She is simply darkened by the eyes of others.
All eyes marvel when the Moon is full.
And all voices curse when the Nightsky loves.
Pity humanity prefers beauty.
I guess we are better off blind.
YOU ARE READING
Behind Closed Doors
PoetryThere's no reason for heartbreak to be a private matter. I'm truly sorry if anyone else has ever felt this way.
