random ramblings
Charcoal moon
The Charcoal Moon sits silently
Pondering “what of this?!” violently.
His eyes shift
Back and forth
Until he realizes that realization is a myth.
The Charcoal Moon prefers his liquor on the rocks
And wears his grandfathers socks
To feel close to someone he never knew.
The Charcoal Moon, what a sight to bear!
His reflection beams through thick black clouds
That latch to his body’s hair.
In his coat he keeps his stories
Subtle and tied to his veins
He has much to say about everything
Mostly, that it’s all the same.
The Charcoal Moon radiates
With light he cannot feel.
A darkened diamond in the midst
Of a heat too soon revealed.