A sestina breaking down one hour, seeing what the moon sees, feeling what the moon feels. |
So much chaos in the darkness of night. And all is seen with my relentless eyes. And hearing it all, every single voice. The cruel, the weak and the mindless lovers All come out to play in these late hours. And I, the moon, must bear witness to it all. I just observe, in sadness, that is all, Being the only true watcher of the night. It's said nothing good happens in these hours, But, alas, you should see it through my eyes... I take you first to the jilted lover. She lashes out loudly with a pained voice. She walked in to hear his loud, moaning voice. For pleasure, this man threw away it all. This will be his last tryst with his lover, As his vengeful wife watches on tonight. Gun drawn, she stares into his startled eyes. She disposed of two souls in just this hour. Different place, different circumstance, same hour.... The drunk drives home with a slur to his voice. He did not see the sign through bloodshot eyes. And so in an instant, he ended it all, As his car careened off of the cliff tonight, Killing himself and his wife whom he loved. Money, another detrimental love. The affliction beat a gambler this hour. He sat up and he lost deep into the night, And still he heard that greedy, inner voice. So one last time he went and bet it all, There after, took his life with shameful eyes. The last, a tale from a father's eyes. At home with his family, a life of love. A robber broke in, demanding it all. The father stood strong to protect this hour. With curdling screams of frantic voices, The bad man killed a brave hero tonight. Are your eyes tearful after just this hour? Imagine, my love, not having a voice, But to see it all each and every night... |