Moon Bleeds

A scent of honey and daisies,
The scent of warmth, 
Reminding me of home.
There was always a pleasure,
Watching the rain cradle the mellowness,
Of loneliness 
Watching the leaves turn to flame,
The kindliness of the September weather.  
Watching the galling presence of grief
Change its colour 
Watching the pain of the graze
It left on the withering heart.
And to observe the way the moon bleeds
Filling the unlit ruinous abyss with agony.