Poetry

Today you are moon,
tomorrow Miranda.
I will call you by different names.

To atone the travesty
of justice, you pull down the flag
from atop of the fort.

Nodoby else was there
when you hit the planet.
We join our hands to drown
without a lake.

The king of sky, now
waits for the tempest. When the
daughter will come to wipe out
the tears of snowy peaks?