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Under the many gazes gazing caressingly glowing with desires lovingly and longingly; illuminating the browns, greens, and blues of Terre's fertile nature and sky pure 'n true; as if ornamenting fireflies fluttering alive with darkly prismic depths of infinite divine;
smiles the Lune with its endless radiance yet forlornly marred remains its brilliance; for though cradled in heart of Nyx it shines engulfed by starry orbs reflecting on brines; The Moon Is Hungry for a love to kiss it gold a love ardent 'n old, a love of poets' behold;
for although bestowed by many's adoration of friends' and lovers', and Sol's carnation; the love it craves is always hairbreadth away far and farther, never close 'n never to stay; ever feeling forsaken alike broken porcelain famished for lover's intimacy it so remains.
