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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #889172
Deep within us is our fear of the dark.
The Western Sky

by

E C Wesch


Contest prompts: midnight, whirling, wind, madness, memorial, whine, whistle, moon.

The blushing sky spread o'er the plain,
as the sun begins it's evening slumber.
Dipping into the western sky,
frightened by the oncoming thunder.

Midnight finds a blanketed moon,
trapped by the whirling wind.
A madness creeps o'er the land,
a memorial, to our sin.

The sentinel of death whips up a storm,
his whine tears at your soul.
No stars to use to navigate,
Our future's left on hold.

The crying angels feel the pain,
their tears caress the land.
Clinging to, and hoping,
Nature lends a helping hand.

A whistle comes from deep within,
it brings with it a tune.
The beauty of it's melody,
sets free the imprisoned moon.

No longer scared, the sun returns,
lights up the morning sky.
Leads the way, to another day,
another night time has gone by.
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