Dark Moon

The echo of the silence reverberates through my body.
The stillness is frigid and heavy.
A melody cut short by the discordant breaking of a string.
I stole the power of Krishna’s flute
And hold the consequence cradled within me.
I have become the dark goddess, Kali the destroyer.
The poet’s soul has been rendered mute
Creation swallowed up by the red tides of the dark moon.
Yet there is gentleness in the cut of my blade.
I set the soul free to soar 
And whisper Anahata as my blessing
To gently carry you till we meet again.

Reviews

[Wolfhilde]

beautiful written!