The Silver Eclipse



Stay.

There, beneath the moon,

Wet in it’s shadow,

The night flowing through your tresses,

Whispering lullaby, 

Forging dreams, 

Of summer and it’s secrets.

Let it trickle, the moonlight, 

So that it can gather in your palm, 

 And see for once, 

Your face, 

O star. 

May, the world still, 

And gasp for breath, 

As you unveil, 

In searching glance, 

Your eyes, the violent petals,

A mirror to search and find,

The side behind the eclipse.

Author: TheHumanAnvil

I find poetry as a gentle reminder, a medium to relay and dwell upon all things considerate people find inconsiderate. Poetry as an art is akin to a lamp or a magnifying glass. It trails volumes of meaning behind obscure, vague words. I have been writing for a time now, and intend to do so for the time to come. And hopefully, hopefully, hope that one day, someday, a person stumbling across this veil of words, find it alluring enough to shift aside the curtain and peer, into the eyes of the naked truth which sways with the wind of reason. If you have any thoughts, it would be my pleasure to know them, if you don't then it would be a pleasure to not. Be my guest. This feast of words is for you.

11 thoughts on “The Silver Eclipse”

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