If the sky had eyes
I wonder if it gazes me back
through the black void,
an infinite retina
watching my every move
on a midnight stole between today & tomorrow.
Mother Moon shies behind tear ducts
unwilling to hear another prayer of broken harts,
waiting patiently for the lost to stop asking,
peaking ever so slightly between the eye lids.
My heart sinks in reminisce of daylight dramas
reenacted on walls my shadow dwells
amongst a worlds eye shut.
I seek my only embrace beyond the light.
A true night walker
fangs unfased, claws retract,
no monsters here but the crazy and intoxicated
transformations from the bends to belligerent
leaves the werewolf speechless.
Does heaven have mercy for the weak?
or does it like to watch?
Like late night sitcoms
the unwanted and forgotten episodes
The sky turns blue
like Arian irises of fairytale angels.
Another day of drama awaits
and I know
the night sky is my heaven
not the blue one
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem