Moonlight Madness

I walk in moonlight, star shine reflects me,
changing myself, as a sculptor's hands work,
molding. I become a statue, warm, bold,
solid - yet immovable a Venus.

Before, I walked correct, myself - the moon
was about, but the hands placing warm clay
on my body in such a way, it became
an earthen vessel, filled with essence of orchid.

My soul is also molded, once pure, white,
is now cold stone, colored with rare perfume,
which falls in depth's disgrace to other side,
where demons lurk, and wanton dreams abide.

My body is rounded with fruit of the vine.
This being of clay is then drenched in wine.
The essence of orchid o'er-powered - the stench,
the statue's a harlot, a wine-bibing wench.

No longer in star shine or moonlight I walk.
Would I to be human, a mouth to talk.
Oh great moon and stars so bright above,
Pray give me a heart, that I may give love.