Spitaghee

So high up in the sky, I see a star So high, so far Reminding me of an ancient Czar Mysterious, yet bizzare Almost like a scar Something I'd never hope to mar.

As the moon shines, my lust for death rises I have thousands of faces Hidden in many disguises My past like that of broken vases Minutes after midnight, I become a fright Scenes of blood and murder whizzing past The bloodshed getting to its height The blood pouring out, en massed The frenzy stops, to see the blood surge out of me By my hands alone, I have made you deceased I begin to flee Fearing the beast Not in cruelty, not in wrath I run, chased by a threat unseen I have traveled along this gray path I call for help, but all I hear is dead silence.

The Black winter moon shines so bright The rivers are quiet Truly this is a harrowing sight Wolves howl along the valleys edge, almost like a riot As the snow falls tonight The rivers frozen fury Inside my self I lie The trees are always weary Looking for my answer before I die As I think time seems to fly But when I die, please, dont cry. Random Jot for old girlfriend that never developed into a fuller poem: She has the sould of an angel and the grace of a stream as the light flows upon her quiet and serene .