i am the moon. small and insignificant, almost pointless, almost being the keyword. people say i light the night like the stars do, even though i am a floating chunk of rock. floating chunks of rock do not illuminate, no. floating chunks of rock are illuminated, but only by the stars. i reflect your light on to the world at night, and i am worshipped like the god i am not. you are the beauty, burning at temperatures unheard of, touching every planet in the solar system, gleaming off of me. i am not envious of you, your job is much too important. and like i said before, i am almost pointless. but what is the world without your light, even when you’re asleep?