I often wonder, why this moon is so wane tonight,
He must be smoking ions and puffing out castles of clouds camouflaging his freckles,
Or maybe he is just brooding over the lost stories,
I throw the windows open,
For some of the sorrow to seep in through the shadows,
shivering, in the stale sadism of the moon tonight.
For one thing you don’t really appreciate, O moon!
Is how loved you are,
How loved you always have been,
You always have been a masochist, and the fun fact is, you are standing on a very fine line,
Breathe, take a look around, relish those warm eyes and glances, who appreciate you,
Strip this paranoia away, for fuck sake.
For this muffling cloud of melancholy may mean the most to you,
But for those who love you, it’s painful to watch you wither.
You have lived a life of laughter and love laced with lust,
You’ve watched the tower of souls growing floor by floor, soaring through the debris of the cosmos.
Smile, O moon!,
For you have touched souls with the shimmer of the moonlight,

I often wonder, why this moon is so wane tonight,
But as i sip this bleeding moonlight bathed in the hue of scotch and vanilla.
I feel grateful, for all of it.
It is a privilege to be looked out for, to know something out there is watching over you.

But what if it’s all a block of code,
and our cosmos, a bug.