The Hurting Moon

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In bleak

misadventures

did I find the real me,

uncovered the truth.

Beneath a grinning moon

that transgressed surreal

to border on bizzare,

bathed in the light celestial,

I turned to the other side.

Cold fire and silver slivers;

the pain refreshed, not harmed.

The hurting moon,

an old wive’s tale;

a feral beginning,

who knew, who could say,

as I howled at the midnight

taken by ebon delights.

Lost.

Gone.

Finally me.

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16 thoughts on “The Hurting Moon

  1. OMG! Did you really write this? Are you sure it wasn’t some GENIUS WHO INHABITS THE COSMOS because I absolutely LOVE this with bells on and with every morsel of my being! Incredible writing! One of my absolute favorites – these lines here SLAY ME
    the pain refreshed, not harmed.
    The hurting moon,
    an old wive’s tale;
    a feral beginning,
    who knew, who could say,
    as I howled at the midnight
    taken by ebon delights.

      1. I’m totally blown away by this poem R, I mean TOTALLY BLOWN OFF MY FEET I was ‘gobsmacked’ at how good it was. I wanted to hurl myself through the screen. I’d like you a lot as a person even if you are a mediocre writer but good GRIEF you’re anything but.

  2. A true masterpiece by a very talented writer. I must say, dear Richard that you go beyond your own limits – finding the words that describe the unspeakable truth. I read your beautiful poem and ‘find the real me, uncovering the truth’ – which is refreshing and reassuring. In a free moment please take a look at my new post – as there is a little something for you that you may enjoy eating up – piece by piece – if a poem was a cake – I would have consumed yours in a second with an amazing aftertaste on my lips.

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