Harvest Moons

The Cunning Man's Delight

By Logan StanislawPublished about a month ago • 1 min read

In the science of human decay,

All the ghosts come out to play.

The skeletons dance upon their graves,

A harvest moon reduces prey.

And to the cunning man's delight,

For nothing could sate his appetite-

With ghouls abound and murders fair,

The cunning man began his terror.

Trees a lit only by moon,

Bore witness to the cunning man's doom.

Alone in the woods, no one around...

When the cunning man vanishes,

Does it make a sound?

Writer, Artist, Singer, Ordained in all 50 states, Jewelry maker, Designer, Painter, Lover of the Arts and Life. AuDHD

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