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Tanisha Jackland Dec 2017
Sit there and watch
the power of the moon
feel how you are moved
by Her
your blood at her mercy
Watch the tides and learn
to surface when it is safe
enough to breathe  
wax with Her
and wane with Her
learn to swim with the
mutable tides
of your existence
navigate these hours
by Her
then see the bounty
of the moon spill into your life
"The moon is a loyal companion." -Mafi
Lady Ravenhill Apr 2017
She sleeps soundly
But always empty
In cold sheets
And vacant dreams
Waiting to be filled
@LadyofRavenhill 4/3/17
Michael Lechner Mar 2017
Howling winds
(driving rain)
Winter is waning
the blooming of
Springtime is near

© Michael Lechner
AJ Feb 2017
Opulence is a whisper
In a forest full
Of clouds
Subtlety is a shout
In this city
Of waning light
Chris Thomas Sep 2016
Stars are out
A few too many for a one track mind
To count
The scenery is like a matte painting
Where the artist
Simply forgot to finish

This December moon
Hangs a bit lower in the sky
Than I remember
Your hands feel icy
But if I turned my head
Your gaze would be colder still

My desires are self-evident
While yours flutter
And flitter in the winter breeze
There are no shooting stars left
They've all been shot down
Leaving dust to fall around us

Our lips used to crash
Along this horizon line
Saturated by a fountain of youth
But this phase has ended
We are waning like the moon
Waiting to be made new again
Everything, love and pain alike, is subject to phases.
Luna Nov 2015
It aches me to see
How memories can fade
Like smeared pages of a book
Yellowed and crumbling
Like the falling leaves of autumn

It aches me to see
How misty the images are
Like freshly printed polaroids
Preserve but then forgotten
Like old baby albums

It aches me to realize
Though how hard we try
Memories just wane
Even the most precious
Even those we treasure the most
Luna
Leal Knowone Nov 2015
going down this long lost road
traveling under the waning moon
thinking upon memories of old
I feel my impending doom
we are pilgrims in the age of fire
we are gods.. truth we aspire
voyaging deserted corridors
painted in cast iron blood
a great spectacle of gore
like nothing you could think of
elaborate scheme between hunter and pray
scrambling the mind and left in disarray
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