The blue moon – I

She comes, and she goes
Like a soft sigh in the dark
And I? Well, I
In silence, look on

Like the fluttering of light curtains
Playing games of light and shade
In the dying echoes of dusk
In the triumphant blaze of dawn

Like a gentle autumn breeze
Winter’s aching, murderous kiss
Pray, let her walk on
For I cower before her gaze

With the hours and days her slaves
She comes, and she goes away
And I? I am damned
To silently, look on.

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