Moonchild

In the midnight moon so weary
In the shadows deep and cold
Creatures of the mist are crying dearly
For their life has been foretold

In the shadows of this blessed night
Death, despair, and misery rules over
“We shall never see the freeing light…”
Echoes of the wind are weeping lonely

Moondust covering the pain in silver clothing
Chills are running up and down my spine
A feral sight to see for lambent morning…
…Silver snowflakes covering my dying eyes.