Such a distance they own; that earth, that sun, that moon.
Such a love they own; that one, those two.
Such a love is it that it is; that one, so true.
Bright and glorious, it flies so far above us; that one, from me, to you.
Our eclipses come sooner, then later; that one, it's you.
Such a brilliance it gleams, radiating sunbeams; that one, from you.
They reach as far as it seems; this space, I'm through.
They tear away these walls, and pierce the darkness of these halls; my love, for you.
They breath into us a life anew; that love, for you.
They shine forward, gleaming outward; our love, so true.
We burn into the sky, a star, a light, a question why; so pure, it's true.
A constellation, a revolution; I give this world, to you.
A new work of art, to you I impart; my ink, you use.
I write this for you. My love, dear moon.

Atlas makes me wonder sometimes about what true struggle is. A never ending hell, carrying the world and the sky apart, so two ancient lovers never again experience the joy of a child who could be their advocate. They bore thousands just to shed their blight upon this world and purge all the divergent paths. Should I release  Atlas from his ******* and tell the two ancient lovers to love again so that the paths between us never again diverge? Or are you terrified in the idea of a path that converges like I am? I know Atlas would be more that joyful to be relieved, but what catastrophe would come from Gaia and Uranus giving birth to their next harbinger of death? This fear is so dumbfounding  and beyond my reasoning. I suppose, my love, that it's because we have no idea where our paths lead. But in the end, words are like the paths we take, ever flowing from the distance we make them out to be. So let's see where these paths lead so we will one day be able to converge at last without the fears of a lonely man. Atlas, begone! We've made our decision. Good day! And goodmorning my love. Let's now have the greatest talk about nothing at all ever and make those paths larger than ever thought to be.

Woe is to this galaxy, we have finally converged our ends to this retched world. It is now time to ready your weapons; for we will show no mercy. Turn your eyes to this love that shines brightly and reflects to embrace you with its tenderness. I'm am the sun and she is like the moon, this metaphor used so regularly, it takes our roles of confidence and takes it to the extremes. We float ever so gently, gasping only for the day to see eachother again. As the night falls, I rise to search for her, in place and others. This and that one. High and low. Shallow and deep I will search. When I fall she rises, pondering about trail of woe. She finds me after a tide, and smiles at my face, brightening to give our light to this world. She floats closer and the ominous aura we liberate compels the mind and weakens the state of hatred others love in. If only our parents could understand that we do, the stars and planets and elements and aetherial aspects, we call to you to look upon us and finally realize, this love is eternal, and never again shall we search so woefully for the other, for we know the next time we meet; it will be a day that makes a man cry.

Ah, dear universe. If only you could slow your pace to a crawl. Then all would be mezmorized even more so than those of such brilliance as you. The difference is that they walk to their destination and you pant because of the energy wasted. Stars explode and become a black hole. Your love is now dead. You tire because of the things that make us gawk in awe and wonder. You feel alive once more and smile. An explosion occurs and no one couldve realized  that the super nova of a cluster of stars could be so myriadly beautiful. Colors upon pastel and cyrilics and water paints. The pungent array spreads far and wide, seeping into the dark void that wishes to be filled. When that expanse is quenched, it explodes yet again and again. The same material as before explodes and is revived. You are the universe that I want to die with, alone in this dark expanse. Never ceasing will my want be and my jealousy. All the stars and the nebulae could never seem more astonishing to my senses as you! Ah, but if this love should slow to a crawl and stay that way forever, may all those who look upon you stay a moment's worth, and smile at your array of stars. I love you. Now live and never again explode and become that black whole that feels so alone in the dark expanse of the cosmos. I love you. So no matter what, notice my smile and reflect it once and a while. Brighter than any sun shall you be, if all you do is look at me, and see what I'm trying to provide. I may be a dwarf whit star compared to you, but your still in bloom, being A nebulae of numerous and wonderful heavens. I love you. Never forget that.

Each day, a wonderful dreams takes hold. It surfaces into my consciousness and spans upon its horizons. I become the sun, and she, the moon. We both exist, floating and wavering and become concerned with our lives. Our relationship is stable; or at least I like to think so. I provide the strength and the light, she provides the beauty and mirrors my colors into something more spectacular. When we kiss, that is our eclipse. When we die, we give our passions to another; and our roles change. I know my place in this universe, and she's still searching. That's why she orbits and rotates in an elipse. She knows not where she's going or how she's gotten through where she's been. I want to be the one to expound my light onto her, the way she does for me to this world; and I want nothing more, than to make that crescent smile a full moon laugh.

If the sun and moon are two different bodies, then why do they occupy the same space? If they share a different meaning and choose a different path, why do they end up intersecting at one point? Is there an unspoken love between the two? Or is that a chance they seek just to see each other again? Either way, I figured that the earth is the medium of that love. It stays in the middle, egging each of them on; simply trying to keep them together. If I occupy the same space as you, why do we walk totally different paths? How are we going to cross in the end and fall in love? We become that space between. We stop going our paths, and go toward each other's, just to talk for one day. I love you, sun. I love you too, moon. Now take me home, earth.

Strangely enough, I've been wondering about nothing at all. The mind I own is as empty as the sky it usually runs to. The clouds are as light as my thoughts. The color of the atmosphere is as bright as my love for it. If only people could fly; then, and only then, would i truly be happy. I sigh, and cry. I cry in my heart because if the world saw the sky I love so much, then the planes cruising would be of war. No longer would I be free to wonder and marvel at all of the works my mind creates. I would be free to cower and flit across the battlefield. Only trying to find sanctuary, I would bulrush all those in my path like I've always done. I hate to say it but, it would all depend if my words got to you first. Either way, the pain you would feel can only be mirrored by the eyes brave enough to gaze and try to grasp onto this tired wonder. I really do want nothing more than to fly, but until then, I'll keep these tears locked away so the clouds will stay light and not flood what's left of this world.

Is there anything  more sad than the sun fleeing the day in the horizon?What have we done wrong to cause it to blend in with the night and shed its skin to become the moon? What have we done to make it flee and lay with the stars?" We lived through its rays, and walked through the days." many will say. Is it tired? Or is it simply trying to spark a conversation with something more...celestial? I hope that wherever it goes, the light follows. The shadows alone are enough to make me quiver, even under the light of the moon. I welcome the day as much as i welcome my dreams. I think i'm caught somewhere in between.