Circles

As the moon creeps up the hunched back of the world,
Climbing the tail of the brooding serpent,
The sun sneaks away,
At the head of the snake,
Swallowed by venomous jaws from spite,

Rubbing their glittering eyes and blinking,
The stars peep out of the veil,
Of their mother's pale and speckled gown.

But as all fades,
The children are gathered in a crimson cloak,
And ushered back to their sheltered den,
Behind a thousand scales of the slithering fiend.

Shedding his golden cape behind him,
Their father sears to the throne of the sky:
The flaming crown of a hundred worlds.