She was a crescent moon never completely lit
She imagined someone out there would find her and strike a match
She never considered it might hurt
This moon hid from most things
She orbited around a planet that was so unfamiliar to her
She knew others like her existed galaxies away
It made her feel both lonely and special.
The moon befriended stars
She sometimes wished she was small and bright and fleeting
But she was large and slow
One day one of the stars started mocking the moon with his light
He would shine right in her eyes and tell her she was nothing
The moon gradually grew smaller
It only looked within itself with shame
Finally, there was just a tiny spec
The whole world burned.
The moon chose to listen to an ignorant critic, because it was ignorant of its own worth, not realising that without it, there would be no critic. Loneliness can be to blame, to an extent. Without the cool presence of the moon, without darkness, there is no ‘light’ or, at least, there is no appreciation of the difference. Therefore, the world burns - literally, in the sun and metaphorically, with indulgence.