g o o d m o o d h u n t
Poetry of the Hunt

All day long, I battle shifting moods,
each of a different shape and hue.
They drift away,
fade into shadows, lost and gone,
their paths unclear.
I try to hold them, hands shaking, old.
I whisper, 'Behave yourselves, now!'
They ignore me, caught up in lack of respect
from the back of my mind.
It's not a good place to be.
The bad guys are partying with booze and smokes.
I need to disconnect once more.
I must disengage and take everything apart.
It's time to separate what's valuable from the rest.
That's what I'm here for,
it's my responsibility.
Nobody else will do this for me.
This is inner work.
I select perfect tones,
sprucing them up on the round table.
Each one's equal, reflecting,
companions bound, sharing secrets,
learning from each other.
Finally, I reach inner peace at dawn,
withdrawn from the world,
content,
finding solace in the struggle within.
About the Creator
Moon Desert
UK-based
BA in Cultural Studies
Crime Fiction: Love
Poetry: Friend
Psychology: Salvation
Where the wild roses grow full of words...
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insight
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions





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