Luna

This poem is a re-write of an old poem that I lost. I barely remember the original except for the recurring stanza. Somehow I do feel that this new poem has kept the essence of the old one. In fact I have a hunch it's even better than its predecessor - of course I would know for sure.

Sunday, 21st February 2010

Luna, Luna,
cratered and gray,
why do you stay?

Why must he be the one,
to be your life's center,
when he has his sun?
Do you hope to enter -
between them intervene?

Luna, Luna,
cratered and gray,
why do you stay?

The little light you show -
albeit alluring -
is naught but a coy glow
that pales in the shining
splendor of bright starlight.

Though you capture his glance
every evening passing;
see - his look is askance.
His countenance facing
the breaking dawn of day.

Luna, Luna,
cratered and gray,
why do you stay?

The sun you imitate,
catching what rays you can;
but his love you won't abate.
What he'll see even then
is a mere reflection

of radiant rays that spring
forth from a shining sun.
Only hurt shall it bring.
His stare shoots - like a gun -
a nipping nostalgia.

Luna, Luna,
cratered and gray,
why do you stay?

Find your self in his eyes,
do you - in his longing?
Looking at his love, cries -
all that he is hiding -
you hear: ringing, howling.

He's your center, your world;
the sun his focal point.
Your orbits spiraled, swirled,
bringing both bodies joint
in a very black hole.

Luna, Luna,
cratered and gray,
why do you stay?

Fate paves a painful path
for Hyperion's offspring.
The Universe's wrath:
upon her who did bring
for all eternity?

Luna, Luna,
cratered and gray,
why do you stay?