I Am the Moon

I am the silver moon forever concealing and revealing what you see,
glowing in my presence subdued, reveling in my power intense.
The mist and fog are my veils when solitude is preferred.
My moods ebb and flow with the tides that I sway, fluid with emotion
The night is the sea of my existence and the aurora of magic,
That I awaken from its hidden slumber
I wax, I wane, I face, I feign

When I am new and exposed, I am blind to your eyes
My visage made invisible with a star speckled mask
Always there, observant to unknowing eyes
I am all shadows and darkness, that which is hidden
Ubiquitous despite denial
I wax, I wane, I face, I feign

The elegant crescent is the edge of my bow, guarded and barely seen
I am the huntress in a jungle of conflict, silver stags on my shield
piercing at patrons of threats and harbingers of harassment
dealing swift justice and repudiating the rule of men
the sharp curve of my cheek turned away in disinterest
I wax, I wane, I face, I feign

Mysterious I remain, divided between perception and obscurity
Enigmatic and ambiguous by design, I am cleverly clandestine
Exhibiting half of who I am, my essence inferred, not affirmed
Cryptic and covert are my shrouds, a mystic predisposition
My nature gravitates to the elusive
I wax, I wane, I face, I feign

A shimmering pearl nestled in sparkling black sand; bare of all vestiges of shade
Fleet must your scrutiny be and you stand agape with perplexity
A spell is all you have, the sands of my patience flow swiftly
I have a penchant for the evanescent and a relish of reclusiveness
My proclivity is all that is imaginary and that is where I stay
I wax, I wane, I face, I feign

-Selene Babaar

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