The moon did not weep
Silent that core of single orb
As cold air lays still
A heavy tear to fall.
The hour is not segregated
It holds its babe to breast
An infant named moment
Who will not reach adulthood.
The clock face weeps
Hands attempt to dry tears
Restricted limbs, stiffened..tight
Upon the wings of a destined night.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: August 8th, 2023 12:04
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments1
Poetry at it's very core 💖
many thanks
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