I used to cry for the moon
half sliced and alone
my eyes would glare and scorn the sun
as I watched the day come undone.
Stars falling from the onyx sky
would cause my heart to ache
resembling streaming tears, rather
than chariots carrying wishes to their fate.
I used to mourn the twilight
as night skipped further from day
confused by the plight of dusk’s diffused bite
until I glimpsed the sun and moon’s embrace.