It Was In This Moonlight... Poem by Aven Black

It was in this moonlight,
Tinted glass drops like starlight
Brought my attention to flight,
One night
As I found my grace in a forest
In temples of dark tumultuous branches
and shadows alike.
And would you believe in the glow
Of a moonshot halo
There came a figure to me;
He limped and lingered tome
Dragging his death like new skin,
In the catatonic glance he was in.
I hoped
And I prayed
For no consciousness
But no god could have made
the creature that flew beside him.
That bird was dark and biding.
What kind of spirit lurked inside him?
This curse from hell
With a chain to his neck
That fell to the ground,
This hex,
Flew for my eyes
Squawked its beak
And to my surprise
It started to speak!
It cried in disdain
“Can you hear that stamping.
Like a foot or a hoof
That finds itself
in a constant state of trampling?
Look around you;
These machines of darkness,
Leaking pools of light
Like stern giants
They await the night -
To enfold
Your body so cold,
And enjoy you as a visceral delight!
Run you fool!
Or I’ll eat your shadow
And you’ll fumble
Into a grave quite shallow
Within the gaping jaw
Of the forest floor.”