Red Moon

By Rethika S

A crimson moon hangs in the sky,

a bleeding heart, a silent cry.

Drenched in fire, soaked in night,

whispering secrets bathed in light.

Does it mourn or does it burn?

A love once whole, now torn in turn.

Or is it fate, a fleeting sign,

a warning carved in shades divine?

Winds may howl, the stars may fade,

but the red moon lingers, unafraid.

A witness to the world's unrest,

glowing fierce, yet never blessed.

By Rethika S

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