From the Port to the Moon

Seeing no god
I said to the moon,
“I am no leader
How shall I survive?”
But the moon was covered in clouds
And not visible.

“From the port of call
The moon is a lie,”
Echoes the whisperer.
“All seasons departed
On the shading of tears
Of blood not worth your indulgence,”
Howled to the lone crusader.
But the moon was covered in clouds
And not visible.