A Lunar Beacon

Wrapped in cellophane
the night to strain
its mellow chalice
brimmed with starry sighs
but a gaunt replica
of day gone by
haunting my every move

Only a distant shadow
parading 'neath its parabola
seeking a respite
yet with malice aforethought
it sculpts my future steps
unseen through telescopic lens
but through its glassy eye
protrudes a bridge to the future

My horoscope but withered planks
clouded by sign posts
with garbled words
flanked on each side
by thunderous tremors
distant bright flashes
brailling through the invisible mist
leading my stitched mind
on a hollowed plane
to the precipitous edge
of reason and insanity