Moonlight

Not all love thrives in the sun...

Moonlight

 

She walks in moonlight,

   through ethereal shadow and

   the fragmented illusions of the mind’s eye.

 

Pale, shimmering, with the grace of heaven’s seas,

   tranquil and alluring,

   iridescent memories long since lived.

 

She is a blessing to an arid heart,

   parched from the fires

   of a world I long to leave behind.

 

(An angel?)

 

She is a torment to the innocence,

   raped from seduction and betrayal;

   my thoughts betray me as well.

 

(A demon?)

 

Visions and dreams now,

   fueling confusion with the eyes’ invitation

   to places I long to return to;

   places she has forsaken me from.

 

An intoxication,

   sweet liquefaction like Julia’s clothing,

   her form hints that the fighting has come to an end,

   that peace and love is sheer and silk.

 

(No.

Dreams, nothing more.

The intoxication is not for me.

Not anymore.)

 

Tears from a smile,

   a love etched in stone,

   a stone eroded by hate,

   a hate that wars with love and love’s resurrection.

 

She walks in moonlight,

   and I long to take her hand,

   tender,

   till dawn casts our shadows to the west winds.

 

She walks in moonlight,

   in search of a new lover,

   and I die every night.

Reviews

[IMOGEAN]

This is melancholy and beautiful all at the same time. Keep writing, you have the talent.

[Sally Edwards]

Stunning poem, very heartfelt and emotive, your words are powerful and beautifully written.

She walks in moonlight,

in search of a new lover,

and I die every night.

How poignant those last lines.