Tag Archives: moonlight

Moonlight

Howling at the Moon

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The bells ring in the distance,
Night has fallen.
The moon plays hide and seek
With the whimsical clouds.

A howl can be heard,
Shattering the silence.
As the rays of the silvery orb
Fall softly to the ground.

A single thread of moonlight
Creeps through the windowpane.
I feel a twitching in my fingers,
Now is the time to transform.

The senses sharpen,
The mind becomes a hazy daze.
I can smell flesh and blood,
Now is the time to kill…

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This  is my first attempt at horror poetry (is that what one would call it?). I posted this poem on Undead Poets’ Society as well, at: Moonlight

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I hope you don’t mind me taking the liberty to ask a favor, but can you please take out a few minutes to visit my photography blog at: Ripples Through this Imagination. I would really appreciate it as I have recently taken up photography as a hobby and I would appreciate all the feedback I can get. Thank you so much!

Night

Moonlight

~*~*~

The stars shine brightly in the sky,
Like the glittering petals of roses in the sun.
Melancholy hangs heavy in the air,
Like the fragrance of a thousand gardenias.
The heart yearns for a past forgotten,
Where empty words were once echoed.

The touch of the silver moonlight
Sends a chill running through the air.
The mind feels elated as the wind touches the cheeks,
Though it is cold, inside there is only warmth.
As the mind forays ahead seeking adventures,
Under the keen eye of this sad silence.

The crickets chirp their midnight song,
Fireflies dance to the tune of the wind.
The feet touching the soft grass feel lighter,
As they too begin to sway to the rhythm.
The sorrow blows with a deafening song,
A song to soothe the nostalgia in the soul.

Drops of honey scented rain begin to fall,
Softly drenching the turmoils of the heart.
The pain, the anger, the darkness, washes away,
All that remains is a dose of bittersweetness.
And the heart grows wings and sings its song,
Of joyful tomorrows, and dolorous yesteryears.

Was this sorrow always a part of the will,
The will to feel, the will to live, the will to die?
For without it, I can feel no joy.

~*~*~

The above has been written for Week 25 Thursday Poet’s Rally.