Monsoons shed by the suns on this canvas once young, though now withered as if to show the price paid for a gravity lost battle.
Deep pools, ALAS, missing you so tears shed for losing you though cradling you would no sooner result in a distant but near loss of life, or is that just in my imagination.? I’d rather blame it on fright.
Gaping holes in this blackened soul, oh my sweet love how did this ever become so.? Thus passion begins to grow in this darkness, tears shed refuse to be unshed, a heart that let love on , here we lie. Lesson learned, the mind takes over leading me away from a heart that yearns to once more cry.
*** though beautiful to the eye, a blood moon is far from beautiful***