Photo by Danny Howe on Unsplash

The Scorpio’s Rage

Through deep icebergs of unconscious mysteries
Lies the particle that stirs in quantum luminaries
Words not spoken, stares not given
Burning incandescent in midnight haven

Release the old soul, the Bacchus of Winter
May the soil you own be fertile as ever
Do not haste this moment of splendor
As the crescent moon descends as a favor

Calm in the chaos you know not surrender
For a moment of pleasure is all you gather
Solitude and peace, both you hold so tender
For it is thy eyes no longer in deep slumber