To discern the patterns of constellation
I looked at the sky with great enthusiasm
Instead my eyes fell for the sojourned full moon
Which cannot slumber but wane.
The yellow is no denial
That dark can be illuminated too
Because one stands against the legion
To make the night gleam too.
Slammed as an arrant thief by the universe
Yet so mighty to influence man and sea
Piquing interest among the minstrels
To sing the praises or flaws.
It still sprawls itself over the surface
Unfazed by the curses
Perhaps it knows wrath can be calmed
And so the inevitable trite.