The moon's light has been sheared clean off of the hard and cold
Firmament.
There remains only blackness and solitude, until the reading of my last will and testament.
Only quiet and silent inner reflection
No unruly yammering, no more riot
Will this state stay permanent?
...
Furtive rustling of leaves cause me to breathe in deep, my heart to skip some beats.
While I walk in the muted park, I lengthen my stride, hurry with my feet.
This is one race that I aim to win.
A desire to qwell fears, particularly those that are embedded deep in...
...
As I depart with haste, my foot ensnares in some cord netting,
I long for calm control and a vastly more serene setting.
...
Bile and evil humours skulk and prance,
Then they are propelled upwards
In a blended romance.
The back of my throat contorts and tries to repel,
The acid that burns the columnar epithelium, oh it stings like hell.
...
Along this nocturnal path, under a moonless watch,
I transform into a trapped, caged, seeker of debauch.
What has this skulker wrought?
So deep-seated is the fear that now crests...
...
Bland bowls of steaming porridge await the successful stroller,
But for anyone who absconds with the moon's rays and beams,
There will be no reward for skulking
No prize for eyes that gleam
...Skulking has quashed my dreams.
