I am the moon,
significantly colder than my apparent counterpart, the sun.
She brings the sunshine and the heat, I awake the night and
those who fear by it.
You praise the other glowing ball in the sky,
something millions of kilometers away.
I guess it’s true what they say,
keep your enemies close.
The half-wolf kind fears me when I’m at my fullest
and lovers look up to me,
and then past me to the more glorious and pretty little stars.
The children of the sun as I call them, if those burning pieces of gas are what you call pretty, then what do you think of me?
I am Alone, looking over your planet,
I have no brothers and sisters.
An Only child to the universe.
Jupiter’s moon Europa has at least 66 other siblings, and yet here I am alone.
Because whoever or whatever created the universe forgot about the little old moon,
who looks over a little old planet.
Some of you think I’m a god, Artemis, Maya, Máni, Luna – I could go on.
Some of you believe I am made of cheese, strange I know.
But I am, simply rock.
A goal for those men in rockets, thinking they can poke me with their flags.
Sometimes you see me in the day, I never mean to intrude, but humans are very boring at night.
The lovers’ quarrel with the sun is not of my doing but of yours, somehow you believe she and I are in love.
Yet you forget I am rock, and I am small. The sun lives alone and she will burn us all when she dies.
When she combusts and the black hole comes, say goodbye to everything you’ve known she won’t save you. Of course, this is if you haven’t destroyed yourselves first.