The Ghost on the moon

On my cosy cushion, moon in my vision

The world moves in circles, then your ghost encircles

Tips of my hair, my skin so fair

They rise in fear, it’s white from despair

This moon has a face, a legend of disgrace

That silhouette on window, I wish I could undo

Your eyes lurk and stare, to that mantle where

I’ve buried those links, my diary your cufflinks

But I’ve travelled too far, on feet and in my car

Those trees are rotten, those pillars forgotten

But where’s morning, why isn’t it dawning?

Oh moon deface, and return my sham grace

~AbhishekM