The sun escapes the dying world
as the moon in which cradles my thoughts surfaces.
She brings concern to my eyes
which swells up and vanishes
Only to return with the rock that mocks me with its holy damning light. The only object in which I will accept unrelenting piercing judgement. Just as the tides, it pulls me close
and as I pursue her
the l​ackadaisical lunar light
takes form of an all too familiar mirror.
For at night clarity floods in as the returning of the tides.
I am aware, I am Infatuated
but most of all I am ridden with disgust.
The protection the rays of the sun deliver to my conscious
are only countered by the magnificent and malicious moon.
For the satire solar merely evaporates the truth
through the hours of his reign.
But as Apollo lays to rest
his gravity begins forcing meteorites ​to bombard my chest
and create celestial yet calamitous craters
After the deplorable metamorphosis concludes
I awake and grimace at my lunar transformation
My lunar reflection