a night mantled in silence,
as the veiled-moon
clings to solitude.
the past marred her luster.
contemplating...
his mental faculties
drown out her inner voice.
she cleaves a path
through the thicket,
her sense of propriety
downtrodden by desire
the firmness of her grip
is now tapering off
growing hours of madness
half-ruled with
passion...
Alice Cuenca
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-blue-moon-2/
