They drift, as do we, to and fro following the path drawn by the gods. Frozen in action, their pulling force, infinitely they orbit endlessly they fall. Opposing domains, night and day, mutually reliant by the recognition of the other. For if not for the sun dark would not be day. If not for the moon light would be night. A perpetual blaring of one reality. A world locked to a state. When then would the angels walk? Would the devils scour the Earth? It is the contesting force of day and night which defines the hells as dark and the heavens as light. The billion year dance, the age old fight. It is the moon to which we owe our morning, and the sun to which we owe our night. Around they dance, in perpetuity.