Poem by Lily Swarn
A Blood Moon?
When was it not blood soaked
This moon ?
Gnawing away at hapless hearts
Gorging on yearning damsels
Dancing on Krishna’s flute
Hiding behind naqabs of velvet soot
If she stood on the terrace with her surma lined eyes
It was a blue moon
for those who pined for a glimpse
If she vanished into the interiors of the haveli
It was a total eclipse of the moon
Moonlit madness never stops its magical wand
Enslaving , enchanting with each bloody gash in the azure
And you call today’s moon
A blood moon ?
Copyright Lily Swarn 31.1.2018