nocturna

shame nestled in my throat

as night’s soft charcoal gray skin

was wrapped with a lofty nimbostratus shroud

upon her moonlit shoulders

emitting sweet earthy odor

not sure of what i did

uncertainty about my heart

were my deeds the cause of it

like bullets from an ancient time

to kill the peace upon the paths

her tears fell down from heaven

now through the teachings of that lady night

and her dusky priestesses along with a few hard knocks

i’ve come to understand that it wasn’t me who made her cry

but that Nocturna was the mirror of my sorrows

Picture courtesy of The Poet By Day site

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