Tis but just a sliver of the moon
What is love?
Tis a farthing of the whole.
What is pride?
Tis a half of the moon and the man.
What is want?
Tis the greedy thing that takes it all and swallows it whole.
What room then is left for my dreams?
Dreams can stay not for long. For now they can stay on the points, but when the moon rounds, your dreams will fall.
We are all forever condemning our dreams to hang, on the edge of the moon.
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