The Moon

Cusp the Moon, Cup the sky in thine Hands.
Fly high, ever onward into the Netherregions of your mind.
Kiss the sky ever onward into the realm of the blind.
Burn your wings and your feet for none shall take you any further, nor be of much service.

Now where are you?

Dunno? Welcome to the club, the journey goes on anyway. Will you BE able to stand anyway on no feet?
Don’t tell me it ain’t no fun, for it ain’t my feet anyway, but believe me I stood there too.
I have guzzled the winds and every storm.
I have taken many a breath in times not safe nor calm, nor fun and shining.

No if I should tell you anything afterwards, all lovely dovely doe takes you nowhere.
All kissing my asses goodbye’s worthless dreams.
All friendly pokes in my eyes take me no far.

OH yes I praise the pain and the nightskEYE.
I praise the unpleasant above the pleasant.
I praise the pEYEn over the fun.
No fun ever arose out of nothing, nor was it of any worth.

I have kissed my own Emptyness and my own fears and yet there’s still some left.
If it ain’t bitter it’s a spitter.

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