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.