Blood Moon

by John I Nash



Abroad in the night, this nigh of all nights, I roam the dark corners of my mind seeking a sight that no man has a right to lay his eyes upon.

The trails of imagined beings I sought have come to haunt my dreams, falling and never hitting bottom it seems.

Dark shadows come to light and threaten ones person. Tortured faces appear, some may fear. True I know they are the ones that I trespassed and they have come to take their share of my sanity, very little is left indeed.

Blood Moon shows through the dark night a foreboding sight foretelling frightful events that have yet to come. Ides of March cannot compare in dreadful awareness such as these.

Flickers of fire and ash, left to be observed, no hell has so much as these, blackened death as my judgment awaits in this place, no mercy is given and none expected, but given, this night of all nights of the Blood Moon , comes to soon.

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