Another Moonlit Cliché

The night was a maze
Of amethyst haze
When ships set sail
On waning trails
What whispers heard?
Quarrels reconciled
In slurry speeches,
Reeking breaths.

Tonga bells
Ripped stillness, like letters
Burnt in sapphire flames,
Crackling the same for
Laughter and wails.
Balconies and banisters
Were playhouses
Enacting dumb passions
Muffled in stares.

Streetlamps burnt
Throwing shadows on ways
Trampled underfoot by
Ruthless dregs.
The city wakes to a different hue
Molded in one cast
Tinted in one shade.
I wonder if all nights are the same;
Do they smell
Of silt, smog and cigarettes?
Do silhouetted birds
Camouflage in wilting leaves?

I have spun many thoughts,
Dipped in nectar.
Washed in moonlight.
Plagued in the loneliness
Of a ricocheting mind.

25 February 2015


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