The moon is half-cut

and i am drowning in its intoxicating radiance

deliriously entranced

trying to read its duplicate

wavering in the endless stream

reflection of my own prognostication

echoing below the surface

trees whispering free falling secrets

chirping songs replaced with bickering

eyes so cold, rhythmic repercussions

condescending stares from perverse branches

short breath of the air, a false caress

chicanery chiming inside

through the insects chanting

but mine is a defenseless verse

hiding the intensity, inevitability

leaving only the contortion of truth

the juggernaught is rustling passed

through the tall squalid grass

procrastinating with the persuasion of limitless time

pretense of this empty identity

a canopy of dilemmas i must face

head on, eyes open

to stop the blind refuge

in this relentless act of night