The metaphysical moon crouches in the murky obsidian of space.  A celestial orb surrounded by lurking darkness.  The pale and somber sphere lives in an eternal monotonous and mournful macrocosm.  Her realm has her roped like a hostage to an inexorable earth.  She’s pulled like a dog in a never ceasing, never changing rotation. Bruised and battered by craters, she hides behind the Earth’s shadow most nights. Precarious, fluctuating through phases.  With a cryptic dark side not shown, but romanticized by tiny beings with flesh and bones.

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