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.