“I have lain those beasts to rest,”
I declare, pacing by the litchi tree,
“the ones snapping at my heels,
begging me to train them…
I have set them free.”
You take a sip from your glass, “really?”
“I have, I have slain those demons
that were yanking at my chains
banished them from my life
all their cries are in vain.”
From across the pond, the moon speaks
“So you ask for nothing for yourself
those dreams have been interred.
No hungers claw at your belly,
no masters to be served?”
“Yes, yes, stop bugging me,” I do not say
that deep in the night comes the moonlight
whistling through a window in the clouds
I hear the clanking chains, feel the soft refrain
of the indifference I wear like a shroud.
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I too have conversations with the moon.
Vibrant poem, lots of introspection