In the empire of the moon
shadows spill like Sunlight,
colors cower in fright
the Ogre wakes soon
in the empire of the moon.

Though the darkness leaves others without sight
the ogre finds the whole world bright
such contrasts are boon
in the empire of the moon.

Weaving in the motions it will often recite
it pulls thread nautically tight
but in a shape that easily balloons
in the empire of the moon.

The ogre hides patient with spite
hanging in the air, as static as Kites
the space beneath subtly perfumed
in the empire of the moon.

Every Movement no matter how slight
send the ogre in an ensnaring flight
with webs that forever entomb
in the empire of the moon.

All the work made ‘right’
draining from the victim what excites
the greatness of the ogre is pruned
in the empire of the moon.

The burning of the days light
raging against the audacity of night
takes all that was hewn
in the empire of the moon.