The ancient red moon

October 21 1600


It isn't the Blood moon, for that
Mankind has claimed the term"Blood"
Slowly dripping down my katana blade
Stained forever on my armour of oath
This massacre left only but perished corpse

It isn't the Blue moon for that
Mankind has claimed the term "Blue"
Lost the stillness skies, the starry surface
Cease to exist, eventually reaching its end
Like the final gasp of the noble soilders

It isn't the Harvest moon for that
Mankind has claimed the term "Harvest"
The dusty storm covers the faceless bodies
Flesh by flesh like telmates, unrecognisable
The sinful souls's skeleton buried six feet itself

It isn't the supermoon for that
Mankind has claimed the term "Super"
The voices of the dead reflect only on
The screams with suffering and pain
Agony in the air, repeating false commands

It isn't the ecilpse, no for that
Mankind hasn't properly claim it no more
Already two sides has its balance
White as peace, Black as war
Light as good, Dark as evil

Which side am I on, Don't know anymore
Here I stand paralyzed, traumatized
At the end of the battle of sekigahara
But now I'm witness history as it begins

Haiku:
When the crane files high
A sign of the ancient waves
Known as the ancient red moon
© Humzee sparrow