Moon Beam

Last night I stared at the moon,
round and white and full.
It beckoned to me like a mother would,
promises of happiness.
So i stood there,
unable to move.
my body,
a stone,
statue.
.
.
.
.
a voice,
called to me,
from the darkness,
of my frozen mind.
it said come back to me.
I awoke with a start and sat up,
it had all been just a nightmare,
and the funny thing is,
i still had moon beams in my hair.
.
.
.
.
Above me in the darkened sky,
the moon hung,
with it's glow in the trees,
clawing it's way towards my eyes,
suddenly,
my beloved moon,
was menacing.
.
.
.
.
I ran for my life.
i couldn't believe it,
the orb i had loved all my life,
was staring me down,
beckoning me back,
like a predator,
running up the steps,
into the house,
finally safe.
.
.
.
.
this was no dream,
i still don't know what it is,
but the moon wanted me dead,
wanted me to sle
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