speak right to the moon and maybe, your stories will be heard;
not by gods, or heathens but by she who whispers of the long gone past.
the lonefarer who walks in cities crowded; never-ending is her search,
"for what?" you ask, but you will never know if you never look, beyond your crooked looking-glass.
you will never understand her; the keeper of the dark.
she is a treasurer of broken people and their broken hearts.
the moon dims in her presence, so beauteous is her charm.
neither legend nor lore, she exists just as we are;
the offspring of time, keeper of secrets; she is a magician—a mistress of the dark.
don't bring her pain, don't bring her loathing and never distress,
help light her eternal hearth.
bless you, she will—move destinies to give you a life among the stars.
if you become the one to make her heart beat fast,
if you become
the first & last.
