Heatless fires alight the night,

Nocturnal eye denied all sight,

Mirrored face, forever mourning,

Basking in reflected glory,

The well-trod path will never change,

The ever-blinking wax and wane,

It conquers night, yet slain each dawn,

It without fail each dusk reborn,

Each cycle is eternal death,

Its scarred visage has ne'er drawn breath,

Its potent magic, stygian light,

Vigilant sentinel of the night.

Author's note: Yes I KNOW that the moon doesn't only come out at night – it is just more poetic that way, okay? So just imagine. It is much more magical if you think of it like that.