And by the light of the moon,
I felt betrayed by her beauty.
For she lacks life and warmth.
From a distance,
I am fooled by our star's reflection
on her surface.
Falsehoods in each of those tiny,
miscellaneous craters.
Her orbital devotion apparent.
Albeit, superficial and impartial.
It's that devotion, I envy.
My spirit, barren of dedication.
For I've let the starling calls go unheard.
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