The Moon once graced the mirror there,
her complexion rippled across the watery fair
that held my eyes, drew deep my mind
Into those mysteries, that therein we find
The dreams and the nature
by which a soul strives
Dives, into this existence
where beauty does materialize
and holds us fixed upon itself
Like a moth to a flame.
I remember such nights
when near the window I sat
strumming through thought
seeking that of which I had always sought
unknowing of the changes
those ranges that afflict my Soul.
She walked the silent corridors
where her tears once cried and filled the earth
To her lost innocence
her vacant dreams.
I saw the beauty of life ebb and fall
before the mirror shattered
the moonlight faded
into the thick brush of holly
and the willow that had hinged its bet
on what the horizon that night had cast.
Pools still linger
where her vision set the tears to flood
If only here within my mind and heart
I know of the depth, the despair
the longing to be something, one cannot be.