In the quiet solitude of night,
The moon ascends in silver light,
A beacon bright, a silent guide,
Through the stars, it gently glides.

Its face aglow with stories old,
Whispers secrets yet untold,
A guardian of dreams and lore,
Amidst the cosmic, endless roar.

Enshrouded in its milky veil,
It weaves a celestial tale,
Of loves lost and battles won,
Underneath the midnight sun.

The moon, a timeless, watchful eye,
In the vast, uncharted sky,
A witness to our fleeting days,
As we wander through life’s maze.