Echos In September

Under a sickle moon, 
the effect was colossal. 
The mute words 
were floating like vespae. 

There was no― 
promised nest of paper. 
You cannot land 
without ink. 

The grey beard starts 
weaving a web of 
lies. Larvae will― 
feed on blessed water. 

Very warm, very hollow. 
The globe turns. You stand 
on the surface, 
cannot fathom out the human mind.