The moon doth grace crystal air.
A joyous dance, eternal stare.
Without lack, the night does toll.
To bring forth light, for one soul.
One thus touched, one so fair.
Can but think, life of care.
In sweet sorry, the dance does end.
A moonlit night, one did spend.
In his mind, he holds her tight.
To dance again, another night.

Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Daedalan, in the year 268 AF.