I Watch Thee

Nigh is the rising of the eternal moon  a mystery I adore. of jaded smiles it wears  Woven by the silence of each passing night.   Nigh is the coming of an endless suffering  of those whose wombs are impregnated with so much hope of those whose bosoms are filled with love, of those whose hearts scream with devotion  for a beloved and their own fate. Their lips say a prayer whilst their souls wrench in pain.   I can hear their muted cries It fills the air we breathe, But the clouds enwrap its spell. And the rain blurs my sight,  I can not see their  faces,
I can only see the glory of thy pallid face, In awe i watch thee, like that of the moon full of mystery.
©jenh2013