Dark Side

Archaic sky.
Curtains of clouds
frame the theatre of night.
For the perpetual debut of
the moon's acute silver light.  
That pools on the surface
of the lake's deep abyss.
And somewhere beneath
the deathly silent moon.  
A hungered wolf rustles  
in winter's ruins.
Admist the famished foliage
and the shriveled dead bloom.  
A dark oblivion moves & shifts
in my heart's empty rooms.  
We are all moons
in possession of a darker side.  
The wolf knows this
as he stares at me  
with dark oil eyes.  
We both know,
the bunny in the snow,
will meet its untimely demise.