BLOOD-BURNING MOON
The moon, a blood-red, burning eye,
Surveys the land, with silent stare.
The lovers meet, beneath the sky,
And cast their souls into the air.
His skin, the night, her skin, the dawn,
They fuse in passion's fiery kiss.
A love so fierce, it must be born,
In moments stolen, pure bliss.
He is the farmer, strong and true,
She is the belle, of high degree.
Their love, a thing of midnight hue,
Forbidden, yet it must be.
The moon, it watches, pale and cold,
As passion's fire burns so bright.
A story ancient, to be told,
Beneath the blood-red, burning light.
Surveys the land, with silent stare.
The lovers meet, beneath the sky,
And cast their souls into the air.
His skin, the night, her skin, the dawn,
They fuse in passion's fiery kiss.
A love so fierce, it must be born,
In moments stolen, pure bliss.
He is the farmer, strong and true,
She is the belle, of high degree.
Their love, a thing of midnight hue,
Forbidden, yet it must be.
The moon, it watches, pale and cold,
As passion's fire burns so bright.
A story ancient, to be told,
Beneath the blood-red, burning light.