Grandson Of Moon Poem by Nate Flying Owl

Fearless of the darkest midnight
I stride through the shadows that find my path
So much have I endured so far
Though evil haunts my every step
I will not let this dark world control me
And the moon calls me to his grandson

The fierce shadows surrounding me
Are the authors of nightmares for many
They are merely shadows to me
Behaving as they always have
My nightmares go far deeper than the black
And the moon calls me his grandson

As I walk amongst the darkness
I look to the skies for the lustrous one
Waxing or waning, full or new
He delivers the strength I need
Igniting the warrior in my heart
And the moon calls me his grandson