The sun betrayed the moon,
and now they aren’t friends anymore.
Once, they danced in harmony,
a celestial ballet,
each in their own realm,
yet always in silent conversation.

But now, when one rises,
the other is gone,
a rift in the sky,
a fracture in the dance
that once held the universe in balance.

The sun, golden and bold,
no longer shares its warmth.
Its rays, once a symphony of life,
now sing a solo,
a tune of loneliness and regret,
scorching the sky
with the memory of lost friendship.

The moon, silver and serene,
has turned its face away.
Its light, once a gentle lullaby,
now a cold reminder
of betrayal’s shadow,
waxing and waning
with the ache of separation.

In their estrangement,
the days are brighter,
but the nights are darker,
the sky bearing witness
to a broken bond,
a silent testament
to what once was,
and what is no more.

They pass like ships in the night,
one arriving as the other departs,
never sharing the horizon,
never meeting,
each one a ghost
in the other’s story.

The sun betrayed the moon,
and the sky weeps for their loss,
a tapestry of sorrow
woven in light and dark,
a reminder that even in the cosmos,
trust can be shattered,
and friendships can fade
into the vast expanse of regret.

So they drift apart,
the sun and the moon,
their paths forever altered,
each one a solitary wanderer,
bearing the scars
of a celestial rift,
a friendship turned to dust
in the endless void of space.