Apocalyptic Moon

I asked the moon,
pale and dreary,
Where in your honey-dripping shine they sprout;
These blood-sniffing beasts,
Nocturnal ever?

Whispered unto me then the moon,
A melancholy, an unlikely alibi;
Nay, not me, they were littered in shadows,
That dripped unto their veins thus conceit and poison.
Nay, not me, they were littered in shadows,
out of my grip, away from my shine.

I asked again the moon,
pale and dreary,
Laden with apprehension
And hope so frail:
O' Moon! What do they see in you then,
These blood-sniffing beasts,
Littered in shadows,
Upon this mirror spotless and heavenly;
When I see beauty and dream and beyond?

Said the moon,
Now animated and brightened:
It is the justice I show,
Apocalypse they see.

poem by Bhanu Padmo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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