Hanging Heavy

a full moon rises tonight
but all evidence is lost
open, dilated brightness
obscured by clouds
conquered by mere wisps of moisture

grabbing a fistful of this stained night
I am overcome
the trees discard their silhouettes
fade into the faceless sky

with houses, churches
stand their sentinels of faith
bastions of hope
against the encroaching dark of nothing
the inkblot trespass of the  night

and I on my road alone
have my own standard to bear
the road I travel offers me no light of solace
my light is my own
and if I falter I fail myself
and all is loss.


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