The Moon and the Sun

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.Β 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.
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Hope

It was the night. The Sun sets on a day, (an eternity) that held hardship and difficulty and irrevocable actions. The stars come out and the nebula come to life as you set your head on the plush pillow, your head filled to the rim with naive hope. Tomorrow you’ll take steps to be better, you yawn, as the Moon watches over your dosing mind with simpering pity.
The next moment your eyes flit open, and once again the glorious, arrogant Sun rises above the jagged horizon. Light dazzles the pale opaque sky, and it fills you with the flimsy knowledge that darkness has come to an end, unknowing that night must always return for a new day to rise more beautiful than before.