Moonshifting
That circle of lume,
You feel altering shape,
Moon seeping skin,
Of unfounded gape.
Fear, born again,
Into humanity shunned,
As what was not before,
Hunted and silver gunned.
Running swift,
You are free,
Unbounded by lawful mortality,
Seeing only what wolves can see.
When death comes,
Will you return to the moon?
Like the rest of your kind,
An hourglass of time, immune.
Copyright © Dani Petersen | Year Posted 2007
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