The Moon, the Stars, and the Sun Who Loved Silently

Reflected Light

She was the sun, bold and bright,
He was the moon, cloaked in night.
He gazed at stars that filled his skies,
Unaware they mirrored her light in his eyes.

The glow he wore was never his own,
A borrowed flame from where she'd shone.
Yet in the dark, he’d softly yearn,
For stars that flickered, but never burned.

She gave him warmth, yet stayed afar,
While he chased whispers of every star.
Not knowing why they seemed to shine,
Nor that their beauty came from a fire once mine.

He wore her light with quiet grace,
A silver mask on a hollow face.
And while the world adored his glow,
She watched in silence, none could know.

For moons don’t speak, and suns don’t cry,
But still she burned across his sky.
And though he never turned her way,
Her light in him refused to fade.

She taught him how to softly gleam,
To cradle night, to hold a dream.
Yet he forgot the hand that lit
The soul he thought was born of grit.

Still, she shines — a distant blaze,
While he drifts through silent haze.
And every star he sought to find
Was just her love, in fractured kind.