The moon’s soft glow caresses me as I lay waiting for her dream (Form: Italian Notturno) |
The Widow’s Moon The moon’s soft glow caresses me as I lay waiting for her dream to take me from this place of strife. Her nightly visits often seem as though I live another life. Her radiance takes me away yet something’s different tonight. Her touch has lost the warmth of love; her murmured words are filled with spite as she glares from the sky above. I’m cast into a darkened void; no tether keeps me from the fall nor light illuminates the way. Fear’s acid bile prevents my call. I cannot find the words to pray. Bereft, I’m filled with deep dismay. I come to doubt that I exist except as thought within my mind. No warmth or cold, yet I persist as I continue onward, blind. The globe above, I thought the moon, now moves with purpose, striking fear. The dance of shadows takes new form; its arachnoid shape becomes clear as I watch it slowly transform. I try to run but cannot move; its silk has bound me in my place. ‘This can’t be real; it’s just a dream,” I feel the sweat upon my face and hear the words in my own scream. I sense that now it’s time to feed; its fangs find purchase in my throat. The poison burns; I’m paralyzed. Between sweet death and life I float and in the calm, I’m mesmerized. Soon comes the sun, a bright new day and this will fade like mist in light. And so I pray, in His name’s sake, to take the darkness from the night. I wait in vain for dawn to break. A "Muse Masters" creation. Convention: Emphasis on Assonance ~ The effect created when words with the same vowel sound are used in close proximity - but where the consonants in these words are different. Form: Nocturne ~ (Italian Notturno) As the name suggests the Nocturne is poetry suggestive of the moods of night. The Italian rhyme is abcbc. Genre: Supernatural/Horror Thank you for taking time to read my words. As long as you’re here, please, take a moment and leave a comment. Thoughts, reactions, criticisms, and/or even praise – all are welcome. |