The silver disc hangs heavy in the night,
A pearly orb, majestic and serene.
But from its eye, a single, dropping light,
Descends, a tear, a sorrowful, bright sheen.
Or so it seems, a droplet from the moon,
A falling star, a wish upon the breeze?
But closer look reveals a different tune,
A metal bird that cuts through cosmic seas.
No tear this is, but rather cold disdain,
A scar across the face of lunar grace.
The Man in the Moon, he feels a sharp, deep pain,
As human progress mars his sacred space.
His silent tears for nature's fading gleam,
Reflected in this cold, mechanic stream.
Tears From the Moon
Tripod Location for Tears From the Moon
NULL