The moon rose, bloodied and bruised tonight, above.
As if she'd been to battle with a false love.
Behind a clotted cloud she was espied hiding
with lashes splayed of colored lights colliding
A Miss sorely bruised beyond endurance
impounded orb, held aloft, her glance entranced.
A warning beacon blazing to ward sea
in haste does each sailor find island lea.
So ringed, the married moon appears a warning
each man on land or sea shall fear the storm
for hidden horrors lay behind the tune
that falsely cheerful ring around the moon.