Blood Moon
I look up to the nighttime sky
And see the harvest moon,
That large and haunting galleon
That chants an ancient tune
Of predatory danger
And dark, archaic rune
-
It calls to those among us
Whose strange souls bear its mark
A warped, twisted perspective
As cold as it is dark
And eyes that see the human race
In shades of grey so stark
-
It calls to waiting predators
With silver, sharpened blade
And draws them out into the night
And its concealing shade
So they may find their victims quick
And hear their heartbeats fade
-
I hear its song; it calls to me
From where the shadows lay
And, drawn as I am to it,
I hear it clearly say
"Oh, dark and darling Dexter, do
Come out tonight and play…"
