BY THE MOON

PUT to sleep my dreams
and give me familiarity
send to me a ferocious
phenomenon of 1920s
where i find myself
where i find myself
again . . .
an age of dramatic call
of social and political
change — i prayed
i knew what i did
so many years ago
i became what i am
a gigantic uvula
of perturbed gesticulation
 of all the faces passing by
i’ve no choice but to follow
bright lights, people, and the
moon at night  and what i do
is so wrong; you’ll never
hear my feet or my presence
in the sharp fang of my teeth
I could never show my face
at noon and you’ll only see
me walking at night by a moon
I’ve a face unrevealed
  and the hands of a priest
while i stalk you  feeling
how trapped i’m in this life
like an innocent lamb
always walking by the light
of the moon;  i’m the face
of a sinner and have no shape
while the moon hangs over you
:: 10042015 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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