Roisin Dauth


I'm a person with to many things in my head, and not enough creativity to write them. But I hope I improve and I hope to have my pieces enjoyed.

Message from Writer

What you will find here is the product of rare instances in which I actually write something. I hope you enjoy.

To you, the Moon

April 4, 2018

The moon has known me my whole life.
Seen me weep and howl.
It has kept my secrets when I whisper kindly to it.
It has silently taken all the anger I scream at it.
And I have written stories about it’s splendour, praised it for it’s serenity.
But I can honestly say, I know nothing of it’s life.
I know nothing of how it’s craters where formed.
Why it shies away during each cycle.
I do not know how it bears to see the world as it is, if it bears it at all.
Did it finally feel connected as man landed gently upon it’s surface.
Did it feel angry as our flag splintered through its skin.
Or, did it feel nothing at all.
Does our folk lore and stories make it scoff at our imagination.
Does it spend it’s nights listening for it’s famous line, searching for the finger tips of lovers on a balcony.
When it sees the dawning horizon, does it scurry away or hang to the stars for one last glimpse at it’s only companion.
Is it revolted, or does it revel, in the whims of humanity.
At night I hear the waves crash against sand and feet and wonder if it’s the moon trying to speak, trying to tell us of our beauty.
Or, is it trying to wash us away to depths where we can’t be seen.
I wonder if the moon likes me, if I could be it’s friend.
Could I join it in the sky in it’s crusade to shelter the unwanted in it’s shadows.
Or, would I be joining it’s campaign to spread it’s tendrils of darkness to the heart of man.
The moon has known me my whole life, and I may know nothing of it’s.
But to you, the moon, I ask only one thing.
Do you ever think the world can be as beautiful as you?

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