Midnight Moon

Midnight is the blue moon,
Scarce of the clouds that loom,
blending with the stars that bloom.

It always rises and
says goodbye too soon.

Sometimes shy
an hides,
beauty;
it lies in a tomb.

An thee air whisking,
grooming it's hair,
it's pure beyond compare.

Midnight moon
happily consumes,
radiant light
that protects what's right.

Beaming hope
beyond the slopes,
as the people that stare
an dream to dare.

But beware!
The darkened state,
where evil dwells.

Hiding in the shadows
with mesmerizing fumes,
taunting with wings,
a golden seize
like angles please.

Lost and gloomy,
sunsets looming
and always searching
what's already insight.

So midnight is the blue moon,
Scarce of the clouds that loom,
blending with the stars that bloom.

Staring
an all you see...
what you assume to be.

Poets notes:
Kinda a small challenge for you readers if you choose to do so but perhaps you can see the hidden meaning to this natureous poem :)