She was a perfect embodiment of light and hope and every night she loved to gaze at the night sky, fascinate the tiny sparks and wait desperately for a shooting star. A beautiful intermingling of darkness and light lured her more than anything. Staring at nothing she found everything. A magnificent bewitchment where gleams of light overrule darkness at times to form a beautiful image, a constellation, because hope too has similar traits. Wouldn't light and hope have lost the battle long ago in absence of darkness and despair?
As she survived every night, she evolved bit by bit. And then she glowed the brightest that night as everyone's eyes reflected her light, as she was one and complete.
She was the moon.
As she survived every night, she evolved bit by bit. And then she glowed the brightest that night as everyone's eyes reflected her light, as she was one and complete.
She was the moon.
