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Long before the time of man, the moon was the only light to be found in the outstretching night sky. She was beautiful, with eyes as bright and polished as the ice itself, and long billowing cloaks that filled the whole night with splendour and light. Every night after the scorching sun was finished shinning, the moon would take flight, high up above the north of the curious blue planet below her, and dance. The moon would fill up the entire sky with her light, her swirling cloak and dazzling hair creating impossible patterns in the sky. Her light made the dark barren snow and ice of the north positively beautiful.
The moon loved the sky to which she could call home, but it could never love her back, so after millions of years of solitude up above, the moon became lonely. She no longer cared to spend her countless nights in the north, or even in the sky for that matter, because no matter how much beauty and love she gave to the sky surrounding her and her planet far below her, she would always be doomed to be alone.
The moon stopped dancing then, deciding to simply float along in her night sky, curled up for comfort. Her once great light was now fading, her shimmering skin now giving off nothing but a faint glow. The moon had resolved to watch the new race of beings on her planet below that she loved, the ones called man, but on the first night of floating through the heavens, she realized that her once great light was now not great enough for her to see the vast orb below her.
Now broken completely, the moon floated around and around her planet, for a great many years with only her hollow sad heart and the breeze blowing through her now dull and faded hair to keep her company. She continued like this for longer than she would ever care to remember, but after so long in solitude, the moon decided to try just once more to glimpse down on the planet below her. Not to her surprise, but much to her dismay, the moon still could see nothing below but the dark brooding outline of her earth.
It was then that a thought entered the moons troubled mind. What if it was not her that failed to see her planet? What if there was no longer anything to see? No more creatures, no more soft falling snow, and no more powerful tides. The moon could not think of what she would do without ever hearing the soft pattering of rain again, the rain that would lead to a new spring, and into a warm sultry summer.
At the thought of loosing all the earth had to offer her, all anything had to offer her, the moon let out a cry that shook the heavens themselves. And as she sat, waiting for something she could not explain, she felt something warm roll down her porcelain cheek. So numb to feeling at the loss of the earth, no, her earth, the moon waited, watching the pearly drop of moonlight roll down her face and plant itself in the night sky.
Before her very eyes, dozens, and then hundreds, and then thousands of gleaming pearls of light fell from her milky eyes, and lodged themselves in the sky with her. The moon closed her eyes, wondering if this was what crying felt like, and when she opened them again with dry eyes, she could see her pulsing blue and green planet like never before.
In fact, it was like never before. Her planet was really no longer one of blue and green clarity, not in the way she remembered anyways. Her beautiful flowing rivers and powerfully churning oceans were no longer the crystalline cerulean that she remembered, but instead a murky green. Her once great forests of never fading evergreens were suspiciously missing, replaced with horrid grey structures that nearly reached into the sky themselves, a place they had no business being.
At the thought of loosing her one great love for the third time in her endless life, the moon began to cry again. These were not only the tears of sadness that she had shed earlier in the night, but there were also red hot ones that felt as though they were blistering down her cheeks and off of the bridge of her nose. The all landed in the sky with a burst of starlight, and became the brightest of all.
When the moon looked up for the second time, with fiery moisture still in her eyes, she realized that with her new tears, she could now see even better. See the people milling around the ugly new settlements that swelled on her earth. She could also now see the new leaders of her planet, the race of man that she had once thought so promising. But they had broken their promise, and had begun to ruin their home, the one that they shared with a billion other beings. The sorrow that clutched at her heart at the sight of seeing them ruin such a wonderful gift, one the moon wished she had been entrusted with herself, greatened unimaginably as she saw the pain and suffering that man was putting upon its own people. Thieving, killing, raping and pillaging filled the world of man, and put its ugly hand upon every soul on that earth, eating away at their resolve to be noble, or causing them to put their hurt on another.
The moon searched the endless boundaries of the world that she no longer wished to call her own by way of the light of her stars, in search of one that could be different. She searched for many years, more than she had spent lonely and lifeless in the sky, until one night, soon before she was ready to give up hope altogether, she found him.
The moon looked down with happiness in her eyes that had never been there before as her focus settled down upon the one pure soul of man that was on her earth. As she looked down upon him, simultaneously, as though he could sense her sight, the man looked up into the eyes of the moon, and they both knew that they had found their love. They spent many nights together, though they could never touch, for the moon could never leave the sky. The man sang for her, reminding her of the way she used to dance in the north, a time that seemed more than a million years away. The moon constructed drawings for her love, up in the sky. The heavens were her canvas, and she filled them with swirling endless visions made of her tears, ones that seemed now not so sad that she had her love.
The moon watched as her love tried to reason with the rest of man, showing them the error of their ways and how they were harming their gift, and though some did change sometimes in small ways and sometimes drastically, most continued on their destructive paths. In her many years of watching the ways of man, the moon had realized that it was no longer her place to meddle, and that someday, they truly would see their mistakes, and it would be up to man to fix it.
One night though, the unthinkable happened to the moon’s now greatest love. The thievery and death that had plagued the earth since the rise of man still existed, and for the first and last time it laid its touch upon the one pure soul the moon could ever find. She watched with terror as her love bled and died on her earth, and the tears that rolled down her cheeks this time were the brightest of all.
Still far below her, the moon saw as the soul of her love shot through the seemingly endless vacuum of sky, up towards her. Weaving an image made of the tears she shed for her love and stardust onto her black canvas faster than the moon ever had before; she constructed an image of her love into the stars.
Her love’s bright and forever pure soul flew up faster towards her, and exploded, and with a flash of bright white light, he entwined himself with the moons painting of him, able to truly be with her forever.
The moon and her love’s pure soul now painted immortally inside the stars themselves finally had their first true loves kiss, and together they watched the cosmos churn and the earth develop into something as pure and as beautiful as they love they shared.
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Title:
Art of the Stars
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Artist:
Porcelain-Panic
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Description:
Apologies for the length of this attempted story.
I had to write a 'tall tale' for english class, and was so pleased to have finally gotten a fallen wish that this tumbled out. n___n
Hopefully you enjoyed it, and will give it a 5/5?
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Date:
05/18/2009
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Tags:
moon
lunar
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