Last Call
The cold and distant Moon, an observer.
The Moon offers neither forgiveness nor condemnation,
Never one to suggest advice.
It’s just the Moon after all.
Just an observer, a witness, for what comes next.
Lest you forget, the Moon controls the tides,
Influences some people’s moods
And reflects the Sun.
Disrespect the Moon at your peril.
The bar’s patrons stagger and stumble.
Last call is last call after all.
And while the Moon remains cold and distant,
The Reaper’s night is just getting started.
Let’s keep this party going, his smile bone-white.
Where to next, He whispers.
His Scythe points the way.
The Moon lights the path.
Horror Sleaze Trash 