As she hangs in her dark velvet sky.
Black branches reaching up,
Leaves sighing as bats fly by.
Behind the walls and curtains
Our lives pass by.
We will not see
And we will not know.
When the night darkens
And the world grows black,
And she shines her silver beam.
A world still beautiful with promise;
In blackened seas
Plankton and stars
Twirl in the timeless tryst
That once brought us to be.
Streets of silver,
Alleys of pitch black.
Inside the walls our lives tick by;
Outside tattered bundles of blankets walk,
Moving to lie on a garbage heap
For comfort and warmth.
Plotters and two-legged predators
Scuffle into the black alleyways
Avoiding the moonlight stare;
Planning to rip the smiles
From the faces of foes
They don’t even know.
The smiling face
Of the dark-suited politician
Twists as he ducks the moon’s beam
And seeks the shadows of the back gate
To line his bottomless pockets.
In the grey moonlit grass
The heartbroken rhino
Butchered with her baby,
Pumps her last
Blood congealing in black pools,
Overflowing cesspits of human greed.
When we can see what the moon can see:
Those rivers still flowing to the sea
And the fish jumping silver in her light
And the waves white
As they crash on our shore.
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