A mood hasten the dew
here that could beat sadness
with a line in its circumference
that joins like a tangent yet
might appear like an axis
but profane as new moon
that sometimes was shone there
discreetly above the equator
and dIrectly by supreme
known its horizon forever now
when blue skies are subterfuge
if only irony doubt here
this dissonant antipathy reign
today jive in rhyme again.