The moon has risen, the sky now shrouded in black,
A veil of darkness, the stars peeping through the crack.
The moon has risen, the winds are no longer still, They howl with glee, a harsh tune to fulfill.
The moon has risen, and seeds draw back in fear, For light's the lure that bids them to appear. They've seen their defiant kin, in disbelief, yanked clear, By some unknown force, a terror to the year.
The moon has risen, insects cry out in a fright, Their voices shrill, a lament in the night.
For in their ommateum, they saw the lurking might,
With their antenna, they sensed monsters in the shadows, coming to the light.
The moon has risen, the sea turns cold and skew, Remembering the sprites, that would not tolerate the dew.
When angered, they'd churn the waters, a tempest, a stew,
Leaving the sea in turmoil, a dance with the moon's view.
The moon has risen, and travelers hasten their pace,
Feeling the chill on their necks, a playful ghost's grimace.
But if they turned around, the sprites vanished, leaving only the night, in silence, without trace.
The moon has risen, and the world wears a new face, Jubilance muted, fear takes its place.
How long will the moon linger, a question, a chase.
No one knows for certain, the moon's dance with the night's grace.
Sometimes it feels like an eternity it will last, Other times, only a fleeting moment, has gone too fast.
No one can grasp the moon's duration, and yet no one can cast,
Only to retreat to the armor of dreams, at last.
Pray for the swift arrival of dawn's gentle gleam, A new day to chase away the moon's haunting dream.