The Moon

I walked down a darkened forest. Not a star to be seen, not a sun to be shone. It was very long before I saw the first glint, save for the gloomy glint from a dead lake.

I walked and walked. Pushing dead twigs and clawing branches away. My toes bled as the razor sharp stones cut it. My hair dampened against my scalp when the frost melt.

I breathed.

I lowered my head, wiped the dirt off with my stained hands. Tears welled up in my eyes. I kept telling myself the light is just at the end, but I have been wandering for so long and I couldn't see it. I couldn't even feel light in my own eyes. I was just a mindless puppet strolling in an ever-deepening forest.

Then, a cold warmth slapped on my cheek.

I raised my head.

There! The moon! Pale and gentle, round and perfect. I smiled.

The silver moonlight cast its magical energy around me, lifting my soul, like miruvor. I touched my face and the dirt scraped off by itself. I was cleansed by the moonlight, cheered by the moon beam.

I ran out to have a clearer view.

The trees, however, seemed to grow tall and menacingly dark. Either the trees were trying to block the moon or they were trying to get the moon for themselves.

I don't know! I shouted, "I need you!"

And I fell.

Back into the gloomy dead lake.

With a splash.

A ripple.

Then no more.