Liquor of The Moon

By Izra Serah Nissam

The clock chimes 2 am

All noise had slipped away;

Ah yes, the witching hour,

It is but the beginning of my day.

Pages and pages, full of words

As the moon shines bright outside.

Whilst the world sleeps heavily

I feel tipsy off the light.

Somnolence was chasing me,

Yet I am somehow faster.

I continue all my research,

With moon-drunk madness as my master.

The world seems fuzzy, cold, and still,

As the universe seems clear.

I study, sing, write poetry,

As I have abandoned any fear.

The dark outside, my only friend

As I study modern psychology.

A minute later, in a flash

I’d learn Latin terminology.

Fuzzy memories fall onto me,

On mornings of each day.

The frantic writing of my own thoughts,

On society and our own decay.

Philosophy, it summons me,

With the moon as my guide.

As I study, read, so frantically,

Leaving everything else behind.

What a beautiful thing, the moon’s liquor!

It quenches me so well!

The celestial body shimmers with light.

As I bid all sanity farewell.

By Izra Serah Nissam