Lunar Phases

I will be the moon
if you will be the sky around me
holding me up
from the ground

You will let me be full
sometimes
and sometimes new

I know I have only
reflected sunlight
but with you here
I can make my own shine

I will let you be dark
sometimes
but never eclipsed.

~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~

Dead Stars

I burned the earth
and it still loved me
I burned the world
and it still wanted me
I burned the sun
and it just laughed
I burned the moon
and it broke in half

Left them all battered
shattering as they fall
hurrying toward death
like it's last call
Where I caught the ashes
in my white skirt
Kissed the embers
until my lips hurt

There are only
dead stars in my sky
I can see them from
the corner of my eyes
And I could never wait
to shoot them down
tear them apart
wear them in my crown

~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~
This is the rhythm of the write... <-- Poemage

Devotion, Sublimated

I am a being of magnitude, the Sun,
Epicenter of your world's
entire fucking universe.
Your only source of illumination.

The Heavenly Bodies all go insane,
those that no longer light up
the Void like a frozen bonfire.
Blazes without irises to corrupt.

A Star is made to give luminescence,
to be a brilliant, spinning god.
Worshipped and blessed for allowing
light to shine in your miserable life.

Every adoring glance that kisses
its proud Aura fuels its fire.
But when the reverent gazes wane
it knows Extinction is imminent.

What does a Star have left, if not
the power to irradiate your Soul, to
uncover all your weak flaws and
trivial darkest secrets?

Only the chemical reactions,
the fusion and destruction
of volatile, unstable thoughts
seething beneath the Surface.

Until the outer layers lose control.
Like lava pushing from core to crust
the need to be your only Deity
breaches the limits of this star.

And the Madness pours forth,
cascading from my shining lips.
A comet-ridden ring of frenzied words
hangs in the windless air.

With eyes horribly wild,
dark as unoccupied Space,
I explode, my vengeance
giving birth to a Black Hole.

Where the image of your final torture
will be caught forever, held for my
pleasure, as a reminder to survivors:
All gods require sacrifices.

And a deranged god demands so little.
Only your Devotion, sublimated
scalding the soft flesh of your mouth
as you chant my unending praise.

Your burning, near-blind eyes
turning again and again
to meet the painful radiance
of my cold, magnificent face.

A necklace of carved bone beads
adorned with a thousand Suns -
a reminder of my merciless rage -
clutched in your feverish hand.

~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~

That simile looks positively delicious on you...share a bite? <-- More Poetry