The moon hid from me today -
Not of her own will.
She was kidnapped, locked away in a dark tower.
I search and try to find her
Behind that thick veil of fog.
She tries to escape him,
Her light pulsating, penetrating Night's curtain.
I feel lost without the direction of the stars –
The ominous fog has also swallowed them up.
I stand still, desperately searching for
The Moon and her Stars
To calm the turmoil swirling through me,
But they have forsaken me.
Desperate for any comfort, I turn to the grass
That gently caresses my calloused feet.
I use the grass as a second resort,
And it expresses its sullen resentment with
Antagonistic little stabs under my body
Like tiny pricks of a needle.
I have never yearned for the Moon and her Stars as now;
I long to drink moonbeams through the pores of my skin;
I wish for the feel of starlight trickling from my
Bare arms down to the small of my back.
But the oppressor always wins – at least for a time,
So the moon's followers must rely on themselves
As they stumble through the night
Bitterly aware of their solitude.