The waxing and waning of the Moon Has always left my soul a bit beset Never knowing whether I must swoon Or Leave a Love I must forget. Through such confusion I often sift Waning memories that wonder why We were lost, set upon a sea adrift, Never knowing whether it was you or I. Perhaps the rise and fall of Lunar Light Is the chart, a compass to set my sight. Cycles of love gained and lost, merely the mark Of shadows that come to breathe briefly in the dark. Thus is the loss of a lunar love but the birth Of a newer Sun to light my loved yet lonely Earth?
