I walked into the night and saw the moon,
It was round today. Completely round.
From somewhere, appeared a mournful tune:
Telling me that saddened loss has been found.
Its light permeated the starless sky:
It seemed a monolith … and seemed alone …
Its size could not its loneliness belie,
And its light, sprinkling, meted out its moan.
It had blemishes, as is Beauty’s wont,
Each had a story of its own to tell;
Eternal past came before each to taunt
About a lost future and present hell.
And what did its face, turned to the world, see?
A bed of hope in oceans of mem’ry.