Concealed

I shape shift in to the sun
today in the dark
foray of a newborn
infant.

I see its face
I listen to its eyes
it hears me cry out
it hears my shout.

I bear the cowards
way in mind but
I am meant to forego
a lonely day.

Maybe the sun
will take me to hell
and the moon will drag
me to heaven,

I conceal the shadows
upon which I hide
and the dark moon rises
and the blood's tide.