Sharpen now a crescent for the rite of moonshine,
Bullets will not halt the flight of moonshine.
Clouds germinate on the zephyrs from wet hills,
The heart leaps windward with the kite of moonshine.
I count my blessings over the timeline of Facebook
Waiting in the tunnels for a byte of moonshine.
You have dug out ghosts from the debris of centuries;
The upper crust of yore lose the right of moonshine.
The blanket of venom has enshrouded the firmament;
A black sun has risen since the night of moonshine.
Tar black are tears that she shed on my kismet,
Fortunes of my foes kiss the white of moonshine.
Uma, those who cabaret in the blinding noon of life
Forbid me to step out in the light of moonshine.