Hang My Remains From The Crescent Moon

The timeless funeral veil is ever unbroken
as it shimmers above us, pure and endless.
Dense silence and reflected light,
all is still amongst this Canadian night.

The looming glow,
the darkness hewn;
Oh spectral skies,
Hang my remains from the crescent moon.

The cold lingers on the fringes
of my mind like pale fog.

Anxious urgency holds its grip
like talons of stone.

Reality, invading my thought and sleep
rends a weeping gorge between.

Under pale light,
my ashes strewn;
Oh spectral skies,
Hang my remains from the crescent moon.