She started as a waning life
Spiritually building for gibbous flight
Waxing of toxic strife; more than a delight

Shelter w/in her own, well-known, blackness
The darkest hour is where she so does spin
Her stories from deep deep w/in

A nebulous did loom in the distance
Thunder did roar into the crisp breeze
Waves crashed under a lighting’s flash;

Shadows yearning for her soft touch
Wrapping them ever so lovingly in her clutch
Gently, her touch begins to squeeze a bit much

Addressee; snuffing the last light conceived
Resurrecting; beginning of night, to be
Hallelujah! New moon,we see….