The Melodic Moon

Before I die, 

I wish to put my mind at rest. 

An improvisation of my being. 

And a visualisation-

Of a man who tries. 

Soon this will come to light-

Let us hope.

A tear may run down my cheek

As the moon//

Fired from it’s grave,

Walks me into the light.

This time,

I’ve found my soul.

Boiling in a pot of stew.

Heated not by fire-

But my fear of the dark,

And all that lurks in the shadows-

Of my mind. 

Strangely enough,

//I started to swoon. 

Looking closer, 

And past the shadows.

I saw my love for the creatures-

Of the sea.

Not hindered any longer,

For the harpoons-

That had previously called their name.

Understanding this,

The moon had let me die.

It set me on it’s knee,

And told me about the story-

About the honeybee,

That had been let free.