There is a lunatic out there
throwing down borrowed light
onto the lowlands.
What right has he to dispel glory
in silver strands upon snows cape?
Has he the upper hand?
I can no longer stand
under evanescent eclipses
of understanding.
Walk with me sunrise, until it is day.
Until the moon shadows
no longer follow me.
© Gerald Allen Barrett and parentheticallyspeakingin3d, 2012.
Gerald the Writer 
Thanks for your time and thoughts.