She rises at night,
As new or full,
And she pulls him to his feet.

He rises at the sight of her,
A reflection of her old self,
Yet still illuminated
In her inconsistent darkness.

When she is unbalanced
He aches to compensate,
Attempts to return her kindness,
But he is left merely trying,
With her unsure of dying.

For the moon can raise the tide,
But the tide can't light the moon.