Untitled

With the honed edge of the sickle moon

We stalk the midnight dragon

Diamond scales and ashen breath

Love's blood tossed like seeds across the ground

We ride our love on a thundering horse

And we are racing against the storm

 

Then, sitting 'neath the sycamore

Cool breeze carrying night's bird

You lie in rested repose

Author's Note

Sorry not finished. Got to run off and don't want to re-type.