Encumbered Moon Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

</>The moon up there, gyratory
Is inclined to an astral plane,
Its light slithers but does not wane,
To go about and meander into her disdain

The moon’s reflection washed upon the shore,
For there, by the bellows, I have loved her more
But by the bellows, I was more than sure,
That my amaranthine amore, she did ignore.

The moon’s face fulminated and waxed,
Through the shadows by the cliffs that were startled and asked,
“Where is your musing? ” She has gone far away,
To the land of thieves, lurching to stray.

The moon’s pallid hue, prances across the halls
From where the cold wind blusters, her glimmer sprawls,
But then I am reminded that her visions were false;
This night, just like any other night, suppurates among walls

The moon’s glare draped me well,
But then, in my room, the fluorescence was quelled
For in my slumber, the structures were felled,
I am one with the rubble, where the sorrows meld.