The dying moon
The moon hangs low
It's light a gray hue
The lonely moon
A reflection of the melancholic sky
The darkness it brings
Borne out of man's fear
It travels alone on its journey
Stormy parts and lightening thieves
Each night a battle
Between darkness and light
And it seems like darkness has won
And the light is gone
For where the moon was
Is now a grave of leaden clouds
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