Lunacy

The darkness of the moon spells gloom.
The waxing lune brings bits of hope
Fulfilled at last when the moon is full.
But soon it wanes and hearts grow soft.
Till it’s dark again like light’s turned off.

New moon: No moon.
The sky is black.
It’s midnight every hour of night.
These nights are less for waking wonders—
More nightmares filled with evil sprites.

But next night hence, it starts to wax
And fills the empty hours with light
That grows stronger, turning the sprites
To elves and fairies, singing dreams
That may come true. If you just hope.

And then you do for one bright night
When the moon is full and the land is bright,
Like the day but more wistful as if
The Earth itself begs you to dream.
And that too loud. You want to too.

But next night hence, it starts to wane.
You feel the magic grow lesser.
The elves and fairies grow sharp teeth
And start to suckle. Then to bite.
Until you close doors and windows.
And cry to sleep as nights darken.

Until it’s darkest. Sleep becomes
Just empty corridors between
One day to next. Where your footsteps
Echo back like horrible screams.

Until they don’t. It’s cyclical.
That’s why moon rhymes with lunacy.



Poetry by Sameen The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 21 times
Written on 2025-11-05 at 14:30

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