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// Luna's Story, Told in Poetry 
// Story: Briarpelt's Random Scribbles Scrapbook 
// by Briarpelt 
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I stood out in the quiet
Under skies of starry blue.
As I looked out on my people,
I forgot all that I knew.

I felt so cold and lonely
Despite the warmth nearby.
I knotted up my heartache,
And cast it to the sky.

The world, it did not love me.
I said I didn't care.
I turned away from duty,
A listless, lonely mare.

The hole that I'd created
Was tearing me apart.
An ugly scab of hidden pain
Was bitter in my heart.

The bitterness inside me
Led rage and hate to grow.
Instead of keeping peace, the seeds
Of evil I did sow.

One day, it finally broke me.
I rushed to face the one
I'd blamed for all my anguish;
I told her, "it is done."

I meant to make them love me.
I meant to make them see
That there were two, not only one
They needed to be free.

I took a form of evil,
Grew powered by my hate
I struck out at my sister,
Thus sealing my fate.

I tore the world asunder,
I cut through solid stone.
The moon shone bright above me--
In majesty, alone.

I threw my head back cackling
Over all that I had done,
'Til the rivers streaming from my eyes
Had somehow ceased to run.

And then, a hope arose
From the place she had been slain.
She used the pow'r of Harmony
And ended my brief reign.

I found myself imprisoned,
My moon became a cage.
For a thousand years I waited,
In sorrow and in rage.

Returning wasn't easy.
Again, I struck her down.
The night would last forever,
And I would hold the crown.

But Harmony and destiny
Had something else in mind.
The honest, loyal laughter
Of the generous and kind.

The rainbow made of magic
Defeated me once more.
I lost most of my power,
Fell unconscious to the floor.

Defeated and outnumbered,
What else could I have done?
I begged for forgiveness
At the hooves of Sister Sun.

With vengeance not an option,
I had to look within.
I understood my sorrow,
So healing could begin.

It took some time and effort
To forgive myself again
For the evil I had done
And the monster I had been.

And even to this time,
Though my heart is often light,
I will always carry sorrow
From that thousand-year night.

It's a weight that lies within me,
At the center of my soul.
And though centuries have passed since then,
There will always be a hole.