80 words 12 lines
Form: tercets
Here’s one story I did not write
about a red moon rising high
and destined to love, I sought for you
but merciless words you did whisper
flooding my mind with blind winds
my blood flowed in gasps of pain
when into the night, fires wavered
when darkness gobbled, spat me out
when I hid your love inside my fears
then your demons I tucked away
so tears were gone, came the dawn
and impulse to mourn woke me up