When The Moon Glistened in Blood

When Moon glistened in blood on the night,
it wept in tears that filled up the shore,
The streams flowed gently in the light,
to grieve over the hearts no more.
Down the memory lane when happiness fled
'Twas sorrow that walked among the dead. 

In the gloom that no joy could intrude
Stood a silent stream with a stained glass
Reflecting only the harrowing solitude
And spaces where all the hope would pass.
With as cold a surface as a frozen sea,
designed to capture one in misery.

Where faces were not yours alone,
But of you who dwelled there before,
With the eyes of a hollow stone,
They hover over the banks' floor.
Their forms swirl around your mind, 
around your aspects, around your kind.

Under the moon glistened in blood
the earth trembled barren and bare
as sorrow began to violently flood
the scattered joys in the midnight's snare.
The night seemed like an eternal breath
that wrapped the world in absolute death.

Everything faded in the flood of gloom
with their faces blurred by eternal tears
and each being, a prisoner in their room
where time dwells and breeds new fears.
as the clocks stroll with their spectral hands
through the gloom where no soul commands. 

Still, you gaze and gasp at your turn
as though the blood from your heart
glistens over the moon, churning the urn
of the witches' oil to tear you apart
yet the moon laughs in its crimson robe
leaving behind her kaleidoscope.