My Moon

Round and round it goes, on its constant course.
It pulls my tides, creates waves, unleashes the wild horse.

Across the sky it races, trying to outrun its doom.
But it is surrounded, covered by the gloom.

It kicks and bites, beats off marauding stars, and washes the earth in light.
It is a battle it knows it will lose, but still it must always fight.

Time is against this tiny creature, and it creeps up from behind.
It is worn down, every day more, in time it’s death is signed.

Nothing is left now, but a memory of what once was, a hole in midnight’s sky.
The stars still make way, in reverence, of where the horse did fly.

A new warrior arises, eager to win where all have lost.
Will it fail, and join with the dust, and what will be the cost?

So round and round it goes, on its constant course.
It pulls my heart, creates fears, and nothing could be worse.