Oh bright ball of lunar majesty! You sit in the heavens, full of illuminating power!
As I walk the streets of man, my faithful beasts at my side, I wonder at your glow.
I hear her behind your glory.
If she were real she’d be dancing beneath you. If she were real she’s stroll much like I did, listening to the nightlife and thirsting for more.
I hear her in every cricket chirp.
I see her in every shadow.
I feel her in the glow of that beautiful moon.
So why do I not heed her strong influence once more? Why dose my Chapter Eight, and all it’s sisters, remain unedited?
Exhaustion. The frail body cannot keep up with life’s demands.
But I must return. Tomorrow I hope to return. She must be headed. I will serve her tempting, addictive call.
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