Howardism Musings from my Awakening Dementia
My collected thoughts flamed by hubris
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To the Mortal Artemis

I left my Home,
    The land to roam,
To seek for the Moon above.
Some wonder why
    For her I cry.
In face of moon, I see my Love.

I stopped my walk
    To take a talk,
To a brook as she babbled by.
He knew not how,
    To see it now.
She was hid, but Moons never die.

Moths they fluttered
    Round their lover,
Deceived, they thought a moon they'd found.
I search for her,
    But all I saw were
The envious stars on the ground.

I stopped to think
    And take a drink
Of sweet memories from my past.
Of childhood friends
    Who helped me mend,
Girls and kisses I wished would last.

My shoes had kicked
    The stones they'd picked.
The sky, it swirled and churled it's foam.
But clouds did part,
    And I took heart.
My Moon shone and followed me home.

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