Rose blue, lily red,
Just like it was never meant to be.
As though the world stood on its head,
As though it was as bad as it had
Been, always, never,
Today and Tomorrow.
Time.
Does it pass? Does it flow?
Or would it never show,
If not that iridescent glow
Of memory, remembered, forgotten,
Forever and Always.
I wonder,
What happens to a werewolf,
When the moon is at its full in daylight.
Does it turn as well?
Does it stay the same?
Perhaps, deep in its core,
The werewolf knows something is wrong - missing - found.
Perhaps it feels a calling,
To go deep into the woods,
And to howl at the moon - at home - alive.
Just like it was always meant to be.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts of the Past, Dreams of the Future
General Fictionok what the heck. we're doing this. just a funky lil' collection of my short stories and poems
