[prose] Moonseeker

((This piece is inspired by the song in the Phantom of the Opera, "Think of Me". The moon that night was also full and bright, inducing a sense of lovesickness...))

The great lord Apollo ended his stroll of the horizons, his flaming hair quenched as he retreated behind the mountains, his fiery warmth giving way to the cool, queenly radiance of the moon.

From her pose on the balcony, she watched as the moon began her melancholic dance, her raven hair unfathomable as it fanned out around her, stretching out immeasurably to cover the sky, throwing the world into pitch darkness. She was cloaked in a translucent gown that coyly enticed her worshippers and admirers, as the jewels in her hair winked and twinkled.

'Oh lady of the night!' she prayed, watching mersmerised as the moon twirled, her pace sad and slow. 'Hear my prayer; bathe him with blessings and moonbeams. Make his dreams sweet!'

But the moon was too aloof to hear. She was but one of hier many worshippers; why would she be obliged to grant her wishes? In the background, the radio played softly. She hummed the melody subconsciously, then, with a passionate sigh of longing, she began to sing with a strong, clear voice.

'Think of me, think of me fondly
When we've said goodbye.
Remember me, once in a while,
Please promise me you'll try...'

The moon appeared to dance in step with the song. Perhaps, she thought, the moon once had a lover too. And tonight she danced for her lover, in memory of her lover...

'We never said our love was evergreen
Or as unchanging as the sea,
But if you can still remember,
Stop and think of me...'

By now her voice had begun to waver, shoulders shaking from tears long held back. If only he was there by her side now... She sobbed silently, remembering as she did, his sturdy shoulders. They were not particularly well-muscled, but they had the supernatural strength to carry her burdens, the lightly tanned skin stained with her tears. Oh how she wished!

'Think of me, think of me waking,
Silent and resigned.
Imagine me, trying too hard
To put you from my mind...'

She could not take it any longer. Drawing a deep breath, she cried out, 'Oh Diana, fair lady of the night!' Suddenly, as though she had heard the desperate cry of this lonely soul, the moon threw back her cloak to reveal her face, sad yet kind, tear-streaked yet smiling.

'Yes,' the moon seemed to say, touched by her love. 'Yes, I will grant you and your lover my blessings, that you may meet again, this night, in dreams...' From the balcony, she smiled, peace and gratefulness settling on her face.

'Recall those days, look back on all those times,
Think of the things we'll never do.
There will never be a day
When I won't think of you...'

'Thank you, lady!' she prayed silently, hands clapsed together, as she prepared to enter her dreams, to meet her lover...