Under a Harvest Moon

October 6, 2008
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The harvest moon shines bright.

This cold, quiet, night,

It wanders through the woods,

Searching for a life.



Blood drips from its lips,

Red against white.

The life it had found,

Has just seen the light.



Pile of skin and bones,

Abandoned in the woods,

Where a life once stood…



Under a harvest moon.





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