The Prophet’s Moon

Once every two hundred years a fateless moon rises.

On this night destiny has no hold.

Beggars can become kings, great deeds made commonplace.

All the seers and prophecies are  simultaneously right and wrong.

Change overtakes the land, filling it with chaos.

When morning comes the world has been reshaped.

Lines redrawn and old orders fallen, fates control reestablished.

By Nicholas Byrley

Friday at last and another semi-random poem. On a fantasy/otherworldly kick right now I guess.

Advertisements

2 responses to “The Prophet’s Moon

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s