Moons Of Separation

Dark moons of separation are soon to come.

Soft now are the sounds from an ancient drum.

Waves of shadows move stealthily across a desert land,

And oh...oh how desperate is the worm of a singular man.

For the windows which were once built to capture the morning light,

 Stand now in darkness like the unseen specters of night.

Mirrors which once in glory of luster did reflect,

Stand now silent on the eclipsing walls of neglect.

So come hither unto the darkness of separations moon,

And try as you may to validate the reasoning soon.

For the percussions call grows louder with each quarter beat,

as the dark moon of separation we shall soon greet.

J. Allen Wilson © Nine 2006