Moon Of Madness

Chance not the night to bring in the fledgling hope of sleeping tomorrow.

For as infamy is made; the price is morosely paid by blood of another’s sorrow.

It is unto this atrocity which come the demigods which swear by priest slain.

It is by this certainty that man born of evil has come unto his own shame.

For did you not see the moon which rose silent on the tepid sea proclaim its madness?

And did not the wicked one and all rejoice for the resolute destruction in all its sadness?

These times; these days; this glimpse of vapor which for man was duly made shall end soon.

Therefore brace the ever knowing signs which are written across the eclipsing sky by the madness of the August moon.

~coming soon~

J. Allen Wilson © 8/1/07