Amid the dimming sky,
The Sun shot brilliant, flaming arrows
In all directions through the sky.
The Moon hid stealthly,
Between the golden lined clouds.
And shot one silver spear.
True to its mark, the spear hit
The Sun on its flaming shoulder.
Hot blood spilled across the vast blue sea,
As the clouds carried the wounded Sun
Down below the horizon.
The Moon stretched forth his silver cloak
And clothed the sky in night.
And reigned until the day broke forth,
And the Sun once again took up the charge.

1 comment:
This is beautiful. The metaphor is smoothly executed and the image is captivating. I think I like this one most of all, but I am uncertain because your writing is always exceptional.
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