Once upon a time, the Moon was beautiful. She was flawless and adored by everyone on earth. Her gentle beauty made humans pine, and her humble presence amongst the stars was company for those lost at sea or in their own thoughts.
The Sun was arrogant. he was proud, and vain. He envied the attention the Moon got, though he gave more to the petty humans down below. He gave them light, he gave them food, he gave them rain in a plain of dust. And yet all anyone talked of was the Moon. The Moon and her perfect, watchful eye.
The Sun grew more and more vain and more and more angry that everyone paid so much respect to his dark counterpart.
So he called upon the feisty comets whizzing here and there aimlessly through the dark nothingness, and hurled them at the Moon.
The Moon became scarred and blemished. She hid her face behind passing wispy clouds in shame, as the human race looked up and grimaced at the ugly mess the Moon had become. A shame, they said, for one so beautiful. She has lost her value.
They turned to the shining Sun, who paraded his new found admiration at the Moon. He drank deeply from the basin of humanity’s love for him until he became drunk with pleasure, and he shone so brightly that the Moon became lost in the opaque sky.
But still, the Moon humbly watches on, still aiding those who are lost and lonely, as she is. She listens to those who know not which way to go.
And though she is still ashamed of her blemished and flawed face, waning in depression and disappearing into the black every once in a while, she always returns and shows her full visage for the sake of those who wander. She tiptoes around the Sun’s light to lead those lost in darkness, as she is.
Forever the Moon will stay, and nevermore will she fade completely from our sights. She is our gentle companion, lulling us to sleep with the ocean waves.