The moon is beautiful.
It isn't a cloudless night, the sky itself is trying to contain themoon's light.
But it defies, defies the clouds, shines through them, defies the sky, shines brightly.
Science can't prove Sh*t.
The moon isn't a rock, it's a symbol.
A symbol of hope, magic, and not just things were, but things that were.
It'll shine forever when we are gone, and it will shine for the rest of time.
Leaving it's mark on those who fall prey to the mother's milk.
The moon isn't just a rock.
It's love.
Hope.
Not just of things were,
but things that were.