"What made a lovely creation ever so broken?
Was it the hatred hurled to it every night?
Was it the inevitable tragedies it faced?
Was it it's own self-destruction?
No, it was the love for the sun.
It was the way it craved the suns presence every night.
It was the way it ached for the suns heat to surround it.
For the now secluded moon would stop loving itself and love the sun.
The moons love for the sun only dimmed it's light, what killed it was the sun never returning the love back.
Now all we see is the scars left behind, and all we hear is it's silent cries."