I lament for Phoebe,
her once awe-aspiring astral light
dismissed into darkness.
Her half-light, pathetic- led sailors astray
destined to be forgotten-
washed up on the rocks with bracken and drift wood.
I lament for her gravity,
nature’s power unleashed; diminished
as soon as the world turned and the sun rose
flaming an emaciated dance on distant horizons.
The tides turn, only golden hues of Helios’ kiss
brighten strangers days.
Beautiful Phoebe, your world as cold as ice,
your warmth, hidden in self-created shadows,
elope with the strength of your sanity.
I pity Phoebe
as she will remain in eclipse,
eternally unsatisfied in her own grief.
She will never know the gift of kindness,
the unconditional love which throws itself
around her neck and wills her to stay;
passion of a lovers kiss on alabaster skin,
budding warmth of want screaming to be sated.
As dawn breaks,
her pale light dies
only memories remain of
her unparalleled cruelty.
“Feel for me”
whispered the moon,
Dawn rose regardless.