Harvest

What did you mean by saying I was free?
I can't be free until the harvest moon
Falls into this volcano, in a swoon
That's reminiscent of a willow tree
Leaning over a lake despondently,
Covered in lava, with an ancient rune
Etched in the bright moon's mountainsides that soon
Crumble and tumble into a dry sea.

We do not always reap that which we sow,
We will not always slumber on in peace
While drumbeats swell and whistling sounds increase
Until the fire consumes us all. A glow
Burns forth from somewhere up above, below,
Beside, around us, and we crave release.