Moon

They imprisoned me, they cut and raped me, maiden of the tides, bringer of rest and cool. They worship his molten might, the gold-ripening fury which makes them measure their worth in sweat and toil. Still, I'm a queen to lovers and thieves, I stir the magic potion in your clockwork minds. His light is not my light, I might not shine as bright but you'll never drive me out of the sky.

Mindglow

Writing poetry since 2002. Lover of art, music, design and books.

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