Mother's Feathers: red Moonlight Poem by Adrian Jascha Tetzlaff

A rainy day, a moody sky, a shattering lantern, tears in his eyes.
A silhouette of my loved one, steps of a bold one, keeping alive,
The red shining moonlight.

Grieving forward, coming in touch, living in a black circle, cruel contrast.
Another one, a pity lie, if it's not for a glass of wine.


A beautiful sunny day, considered, clear sky,
Kids are playing in the white paling sunlight.
Hate filled up my bath again,
Seeing this again, corpses, seeing again, morbid.

A silhouette that I loved ones, crossing the corner,
Keeping alive, my red shining moonlight.

Grieving forward, coming in touch, motionless circle, undefined contrast,
A pot of tears, no sign of my sky, if the glass was filled up with ripe wine.


Stupid lantern always, one, a shape,
Never shared love for your kind,
The silhouette starts to erase, disturbance you, devestating light.
My eyes, dry blind, though, never-ending cry,
Falling gloomy shadow sign.
I never felt so alive, I just hate the red shining moonlight.

Grieving forward, coming in touch, never-ending circle, clear contrast.
Anything was better, ere, before the derision.
The soaking blanket wide,
If the glass wasn't a brightful shine.



Broken pieces, empty sky, darkness left behind.
Love, hate, a despair, a trial, gift, you had, a promise, that angel, ending pride.
Chasing memories, unfinished masterpiece.
Sick blood in your veins,
The mind living in harmony, a circle, with updriving lines, lost my sane.

Just pondering, weak and weary, hearing a tapping, from my basement door,
The opened up embraces, a dying ember, thy sorrow, was trembling, in his sore.

Leaning forward, lost the touch, a circle, no contrast,
The cursed glass full of wine,
Murmured an echo, like the red light, wasn't for humankind.