By: Jerome Brooke

Queen of night, dance madly,
Dance till you do fall.
Priestess of the moon, spin in joy,
Lost in the circle, ruler of all.

The moon fades, shelter it does seek,
Distant in the sky. �
Do not depart, goddess high,
Our song, surely does not lie.

See the maiden fair, bound in chains of gold,
No man has she known.
Her pure blood will drip, run from the altar,
Altar of dark stone.

About the Author

Jerome Brooke was born in Evansville, Indiana. He now lives in the Kingdom of Siam. He has written our Lady of Silk and many other books. His work has been published in numerous journals, including Indigo, MelBrake Press blog, First Literary Review, Penny Ante, Conceit, Inquisition, and Mirror Dance.
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