• Closeing thy eyes,
    I see not the lush green palms,
    But,
    The darkened sky,
    A black so blue,
    Moonlight cascading down these pale buttermilk cheeks,
    As if it can't get enough of this sweet silk,
    Is the man in the moon crying?
    For the lady Sun to stop running in circles away,
    For without her he is just a smudge against the sky,
    Close thy eyes,
    Cry, Cry, Cry, Cry,
    For within the night
    Walking through these darkened woods,
    I see he is crying for a sliver of what was not to be,
    Pouring every ounce of nothing true,
    Like an exotic temptress she licks his glimmering light,
    To silence his crying smight,
    Walking through these grabbing hands,
    These darkened sticks,
    That were once lively branches,
    Are now blue,
    For the moon,
    Forgot to give his substance,
    To the rain that cried,
    While its lover lay peacefully slain.