See the stark, stark moon
Amongst the bright pearly clouds,
Are you no more than a faded picture now?
Are you tired, old frail moon,
Have your deeds with the dark, dark night drained you?
Silent as the whisper of a silver man’s beard,
Bland as a purified moonlight lake,
You rest now, dear moon,
Shrink back behind the clouds
To sleep in peace.
For when the sky becomes dark, dark again
And the clouds pale and hide in fear,
You will awake again, brave moon,
Valiant as ever to protect us, I see,
From the dark, dark terrors that accompany
The dark, dark night.
Only to be drained again,
Only to be impaled again.
Yet your shoulders still stand proud,
Your head still held up high,
As you shrink back behind the giggly, flouncing clouds,
No need of thanks for your efforts,
No need of recognition or praise.
Our faded guardian.
How much we owe to you.