WAXING and waning flowing from full to black and nothing pale in contrast to the rays of its brother longing reigns to ever be present but what is forever who is eternal can there be a state of the perpetual days come and nighhts go and still unsure is the moment of embrace frail in mind to the cold of the world brace to be in time transient should ever there be a constant to this eb and tide fated to grow until death calls darkened to the ones called to be the children of an ever changing face
