A Pale Moon Rises
It seems dark clouds are at hand; and a storm seems brewing;
And the wind that blows;
Could bring with it; the onslaught of pain.
And the moon might shift; and the sea may rise
And being swept ashore; by the light of the moon;
Could be a foreboding feeling; with each breaking of a new wave.
The once serene tide pools of tranquility;
Could be submerged; and the inhabitants will struggle for a place to cling;
And with the howling winds; anger might seep through;
And written words of anger will hurl; People will speak of contradictions;
Some will not be what they claim to be;’
And those lines of friendship will too often be broken
Left behind may be the scattered pieces of better days;
And in the face of adversity; many might offer no denials.
For they are both innocent; and yet guilty;
Sometimes good but more often bad;
Often straightforward or perhaps withholding;
And rarely are they happy; but too often they are sad.
There words written;
So often by the light of man made illumination;
May claim that the tide has shifted; and control is necessary;
Beware of the false prophets
For there will be witnesses;
And the truth shall not be hidden.
.
Copyright © Leonard Taormina | Year Posted 2007
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