Stars burn brightly upon me, white,
From skies filled with inky fluid
That drips down from the swirling night
To be caught by clouds most lurid
And spills over silver edges
Splattering on the harvest moon
As foreboding darkness pledges
“Demise” and I begin to swoon.
The darkness steals across its face
And casts a shadow on my own.
A veil of charcoal mourning lace
Across my blinded eyes is thrown.
Onyx pours from chaos’s quill:
Light itself will soon extinguish.
And I of grief have had my fill,
And resistance I relinquish.
My head is bowed in tears wet,
The moon slips wholly into gloom
As I fall prey to deep regret;
Mourning roses begin to bloom.
The darkness soon begins to fade,
To melt down from the bright surface
Into the void my grief has made:
My soul a cold, unused furnace.
The eclipse at last is finished
But its effects with me remain:
My only joy now diminished,
My teardrops falling sheets of rain.
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