Song of the Moon

Fear not the dying light,

        That wanders from the broken sky.

Nor the darkness that it leaves,

        With every moment passing by.

 

Fear not the passing day,

         Or the silence that it brings.

For as the sun does show his final ray,

         The moon will soon begin to sing.

 

She sings a song of joy and mirth,

         A tune to lead the mind astray.

The solemn voices of this earth,

           Shall not be lost in slow decay.

 

But if the moon can sing and rhyme,

          Those solemn voices aren’t for ill.

The song she sings within our time,

          Won’t cease to echo when we fall still.