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from the dusk of yester night,
the warmonger comes from afar,
passing clouds so still they challenge the heavens
to stop the worlds turning-so
in perhaps a moment as brief as
the moons heartbeat.

she waxes as he dances round her-
celebrating his realisation that
victories past are the success
of a failed wisdom
and nothing more.

orange and effulgent, she lies on
the morrows horizon-
full with such beauty,
floating so complete.
high above he meanders,
overcome by the fruits
of lunar clarity.

mars spins away from penumbra
that would darken countenance
to gibbous crescent,
drags from sweet gravity
that draws the tides.

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The following comments are for "perihelion clarity"
by joeyjoejoe3

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