The moon, she cried tonight
Silently weeping her shadowy light
Down upon my broken heart
Beaten and harmed in her name.
Luna, whose hold and cadence
Ever dependable, never changing
A loyal lover, even in her dance
The maternal grasp of satellites gravity
She has never steered us wrong.
Never harmed, never hurt our beloved home
A shield to flecks of ice which could harm us
A protector, she the eternally kind sibling to our mother.
Raped. Violated by the cowardly
A roomful of sexless androgynous souls
Seeking either glory or redemption
Longing for recognition in a world of chosen cells.
Isolation - the breath of the dying
No longer creation but meaningless equations
Spun by empty casings in a universe of predictability.
Did they penetrate to a hopeful end?
Was there righteousness in their excretion
Of carbon onto pure soil
Of waste onto the icy linen of the night
DId they do it to protect our home from satellites?
Not spoken of but known
More silent than the moon’s harvest light?
More urgent than the purity of belief and religious
Rite?
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