The June Moon

As the sorrowful polka dotted skies light      up  the dark and tainted night, I watch the June Moon.

As I lie there and stare at the vast night sky, I listen to the June Moon spill her        pretty little bright white lies.

The June Moon seemed to glow bright with joyful glee as I happily agreed to sing the soft melancholy melody that she sung to the people in desperate need.

Alas, the small tune I sung to the great June Moon seemed to deplete the foul mood of the once cold and bitter range, how this reminded me of my sweet sweet melodic days. 

But, oh how good things don’t last, the one thing I had forever, would disappear at last.

The June Moon seemed to turn, and tip away,

behind the fabric of ocean, and vast sheets of the darkness that lays, to now, all that seems to be left, is a dissembled array .

I felt my heart shatter, a discarded bruth,

        The grass cold, giving me rue.

The disarray my soul felt within, would never mend itself with the hole that was left within.

Oh and as the vast and sorrowful skies light up with the beautiful white lies my love and I had swore to and by, seemed to have finally died.