The blood-laden Moon drips
Slowly, lethargically
Like molasses to the Earth
Flooding the streets
And the countryside
In a thickening haze
And flooding the mind
Even more so
Until we are not our own
But the instruments
Of prediluvian things
The forces that once ruled
The primordial waters
And wish to bring about
The age of the sea once more
An endless ocean
Under a blood red Moon