A moment of escape

It crashed
before my eyes,
too quick for me to shout
dashed time that
lapsed and waned
for too long, too much
a harvest moon whom
we will away with
warm beer and hand-motions
yet of course
remains, even as
the veil of the shadow
burnt and ravaged
and I only watch,
whispering about how
it has unsettled my
weak stomach.

Violated, she sleeps
on that dead, dusty bed
she,  a fountain which
shines ever more like
midnights full of rain.
holding, hoping, but
unanswered and left
to hold onto, hope upon
yet another solitary
dusky-eyed, hell-frozen
winter's eve.