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Pining for the moon: 

For that far away light hanging just beyond your reach.

What do you do when trapped by life, ebbing, slipping out of sight;

Watching the world morph into unrecognizable shapes and face.

Do you wait and hold your breath, be swept up in the tide?

Pining for the moon and that long-awaited night

When cool balm of crystal light makes all calm at its sight.

Silver, blue, white: under which all becomes soft.

What hope do we have when, in this wash of 

illuminating light, they look into your face and lie?

Pining for the moon but fearing the dawn when sun erases the night

And the lies of man finally come to light.

Is abrasive truth better than false hope?

Oh that it would never be light when man’s heart shows

It’s endless night.

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