• riot_of_colours 6w

    The Waning.

    Gnarled and charred
    Beneath light's drooping lids,
    Wrecked and scarred
    Beyond mind's lighted meads,
    They gnaw at the edges of moonbeams.

    Crawling and breathing
    Dark Wisps of midnight chills,
    Stretching and flailing
    Formless arms like shadowy hills,
    Words tear through the waning moon-fields.

    ©Meghna