As I waltz through this garden of infants,
Memories twist into blades before me
And cut out my eyes.
Despite the torment,
Satisfaction still lingers.
Sweetly bleeds the harvest moon.
I dance with the shadows.
This euphoria cannot last,
For the hunger returns with each new dusk.
Mother Nocturne,
I am her companion
And her slave.
To subdue the beast within,
I must destroy that which I once was
And can never be again.
How tragic that the deepest grief
Is that which allows me to live.
Joseph VanBuren 