So what became of the moon this night,
One moment shining,
Once glowing so brightly,
the minutes turned to hours.

All ebony night,
Whence, Duncan, thane of highland descent,
swept the cover of the haze,
embraced the moon with wild eyes,
blackened further July skies.

Beneath the remnants of the missing moon,
the wild crazy women,
they swirled,
mixing potions,
of dancing and loving,
while brewing emotions,
and magic with such torrid chants,
a whirling tornado,
a dervish indeed,
a whirlwind so sore,
the end of the night,
with dawn breaking silently,
their vehement words, lost,
blown away, as they crumbled to dust,
the dust blew in their eyes,
my God how they cried,
all that emotion destroyed.
(C) Livvi