cat at the moon

there is something wrong 

actually there are many things wrong 

many may point out but will stay silent 

in the face of the wrath they all cower into their fears 

shiver in their freezing sweat, trickling down their downward spine

an environment of cold where the heat of the burning fire is solidity 

only a mere distance beneath our trembling legs 

a place where warm comfort are expected but is only on the hind of their supreme light 

one may suffer in all those palpating anxiety 

even though they’re clenching the aching pain, a brave mask is shown only throughout the day

depression and dreadfulness appears when the cat howls at the shining moon