The moonlight shines upon his face but the moonlight walks with her.
And even as the wind blows he knows she is the wind.
He dreams through life in search of her, the goddess that he seeks,
A shining maid of Hypnos whose love will heal his heart.
But Phobetor will not relent nor let him pass the vale,
And so he wanders ever on as flowers die and bridges fail under the weight of dashed hopes and smouldering fears,
Whilst safe amongst the stars she toys with him, this maid of sun and moon.
She is effervescent grace and forbidden truths and always beyond embrace
Yet with furrowed brow and bitter heart he toils onward ever more,
Still seeking her… and finding nought but broken hopes and lies and tears.
Copyright Chris O’Connell June 27th 2017