Moonshade

A stillness makes the shadows move
Across the silken surface sheen,
And whispers in the darkness soothe
A chaos in the silver screen.

Upon the lonely promenade,
A spectre moves with sorrow cast
Across the ocean's grey facade
Where raging tears are doomed to last.

Then from the clammy starless space
That fills the void inside his eyes,
Another furrow scars his face
As moonbeams split a broken guise.