Those who were awake at night
spoke to the stars up above.
The stars were holders of their secrets.
They were the true beauty of the night
– not the moon
They gathered together
and shone with the fire of all it held.
The moon was the only exception to those who kept secrets.
It had hope.
A hope only those who stayed awake knew,
A hope of loss love,
of love unrequited.
The moon lost its lover the wolf
And died to let her sister breathe.
How the moon loved them so much.
It’s tears were the buckets of stars
That we threw everything into.
One day the moon would decide to make one true.
It would send the wish flying through the sky,
Shooting it across
and it hoped that the one that made that wish looked at it.
The moon seldom did this.
Which is why we must watch and wait
– us who stay awake
We must hope like the moon
that one day our wish will come true.
That the things we have lost will return.
That our futile struggle
and unending hope will not be for nothing.