ODE FOR A DEAD MOON

                     
                  The room is full of papers
                  Filled with dusty bookshelves
                  Like no one has ever visited it
                  A dim light slowly appears
                  But as you come close
                  Everything gets dark
                  As I walked into this dark room
                  I noticed the Moon
                  She seems too red today
                  I can't keep gazing long
                  Like a schizophrenic man
                  Staring with his perplexed eyes
                  Red is an alert colour
                  It's not like the blossom of our hair
                  It's the blood-red
                  That makes your heart shiver
                  I, too, was living in constant fear
                  For twenty whole years.
                  I held the Moon in my hands
                  And captured her out of the dark room
                  Hesitating at first
                  Looking at her with pity
                  I locked my cats outside in the cold
                  Left them crying there alone
                  Their shrieks were haunting me
                  But they shouldn't see the murder
                  I killed the Moon with my own hands
                  I became a murderer of my greatest fear.
               

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

INTRODUCTION

HUMAN :||: NATURE