To my dearest glowing rock,
The sun has hidden and you soar in his place
Watching over his dreaming flock
A white radiance from your face
The morning will bring new stock
Another rat race
Shadows flee in shock
Until your next full phase
Cycles rounding like the clock
As we wander through the maze
Merely mortals just to mock
Counting our remaining days
Dulcet tones of tick, then tock
Wandering without knowing the ways
But your path is set and stuck
Circling the world through the haze
Bringing the nightwatch luck
Darkening all to greys
Until I wake come morning...yuck
About the Creator
Tales from a Madman
.. the figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the bounds of even the Prince's indefinite decorum.
The Masque of the Red Death
Edgar Allan Poe
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