• This deserted moon that glows,
    burning out a wind thus blows.
    Gathering tight knots to pull,
    smiling now a mirthful fool.
    Cold like teeth on uncooked meat,
    lonely like the barest feet.
    All is dust and swept away,
    Taking hearts from those who stay.
    Filling out the cake pan's tin,
    This is where all Gods begin.
    Laughter wakens old dead rooms,
    Flowers die as ice does bloom.
    Last for supper first for dark,
    Morning comes the lifeless spark,
    coughing out a light unfurled,
    re-alight this souless world.
    Stitch these cracks in porcelain skin,
    bake a brand of laughing sin.
    Go to those who cared for clatter,
    give up the night, it does not matter.
    File away bullets in calm retort,
    miles pass, soldiers report.
    Skeletons walk this battlefield,
    The moon shares not the cards it's dealed.
    And not to you the way is shown,
    This November moon, the wind has blown...