Dawning Creations

I dreamt away
the Sun’s, Last Dance.
He’s the greatest showman,
his act has fatigued me so.

I dreamt his light down the mountainside.
Rocks and trees
are laughing, while
his warm feet tickle their backs.

This was his, Last Dance
and I’ve dreamt it away, again.

You say, “Are we fine?”
I ask myself,
Am I fine?

I’m surrendering to the inevitable.
It’s all fine.
I’m a survivor,
surrendering to Mistress Moon’s cold shine.

My soul shivers and shines,
waking up at her shackles
shaking my windows glass.

Her delicate lily white hands
clash beautifully with her
magenta, violet pearls swinging
majestically while we sway

We’re riding the shadows
cast by tired trees and
whimsically bedazzled stop lights and signs.

Nightshift holds us together like gorilla glue.
Mistress Moon and us three.
We don’t sleep but during the day.

We’re o.k.
We’re just fine.

Our worries can’t reach our minds
while we’re dancing in mascaraed, under Mistress Moon’s light.