Lamentations of My Luna Lost

by CrispySparrow

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Nightmare Moon, Princess Luna
Length: 1206

Why is it that some gods weep? Do they perhaps have secrets to keep?

Wolf newman was kind enough to do a reading, you can find it here.

Why is it that some gods weep? Do they perhaps have secrets to keep?
Secrets lost so deep within the mind, Their master will, no doubt, be hard to find.
If you can relate then I do feel for you, But fear not because I do too.
If not, then do not scoff. You have not felt pain, until you have been lost.
All and all take your time, there is plenty in which to read this poem of mine.

Published 2016-06-24 20:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-06-24 20:20:01 UTC

When Gods Weep

Alone I sit, in the place so far,

Cursed to drift, along side that star.

For how long have I been alone?

Solitude is not something I would condone.

I cannot recall, a pony before, ever meeting,

All I have are shadows of thoughts, this obscure feeling.

I look down at the rock in the void beyond,

I ask questions to which none respond.

I yearn for something, now long lost,

On my heart, the pain burns like frost.

Perhaps it is because, it too is alone.

Like me, sitting on a celestial throne.

Unnoticed, except for the radiant glow.

But besides that, I cannot know.

That right was taken from me long ago.

I am comforted for a moment.

But, the realization brought about more torment.

When I remember it long ago, found a companion.

Unlike me, it would never feel abandon.

The comfort is lost to the void of space.

Space. Its vastness, alone I must face.

I gaze upon that fragile rock.

Ticking around its star, as a clock.

To hide from the pain, buried so deep.

I go back to the void of sleep.

To all the secrets that it keeps.

Oh the gods must truly hate me.

Or, from these visions, free they would let me be.

They seem to be memories, which are not mine,

Gathered from some realm beyond time.

What could take pleasure in my torment?

Only a dark will who wished mine to be bent.

These rogue dreams that are my plague,

Why, oh, why must they be so vague?

Sister, she calls me, oh why must she tell lies?

Is she ruled by a perverse will between her thighs?

Where I now stand, a familiar and strange room.

A place, somehow immune to the gloom.

My feelings, I am sure you can relate to.

Because it is something, we all go through.

When you look upon a toy from your childhood,

And through you flow visions, of all that was good.

Gone is that foal, who was once you,

You cast them off, as one does an old horseshoe.

So easily, you stole their life away,

And from that point, you could only decay.

You are cursed, only to be flawed.

New ideals of life, sadly, most applaud.

Visions of the world, in foundations fraud.

A vicious wheel, if awake you might feel.

A perfect cycle, from which we cannot hide.

A perfect cycle, like the moon, and the tide.

In the room I stand, so familiar and strange.

Where great destinies have been destined to change.

Before me, stands a great white god

By her majesty, I am only awed.

Upon that beautiful face I gaze,

Its terrible glory can only amaze.

She must be a god, of course, of course,

What else would you call this pure, white, horse?

On some fantastic whim we can never understand,

She stepped down from heaven, to walk upon land.

Some terrible truth, she must keep,

For what else would cause a god to weep?

My shape cuts through existence like a knife,

Within my heart, brew desires of strife.

My mane, is as the void,

With it come terrors, only fools do not avoid.

A cruel master, is my rage,

Even obeying locks me in her cage.

Sister, the god cries,

The sound of her voice, I can only despise.

And what happens next, I am sure you can surmise.

Forward at my victim, I dive. Forgive me, sister! she spills her lies,

And I am overcome by the vibrant tides.

From my dream, I suddenly wake.

These feelings in my heart, I am unable to shake.

I rise from my cradle of star stuff,

Of dreams, now I have had enough.

I wonder what I shall do, now that I have risen.

What do you do with infinity, and distance as your prison?

You walk, for ages, if you must.

If this brings freedom, in only faith, can you trust.

Silent, still, and somber, is the surface of this sphere.

The silence, I have come to no longer fear.

Suddenly, in the darkness up ahead,

A shape awakens hopes I long thought dead.

A companion? A friend? Perhaps a pony to share my bed?

I gallop into the darkness beyond,

Looking for somepony with which to share a bond.

But then I make a foolish mistake,

Being careless with steps I take.

I fall, for what seems like an age.

The depth of the crater, I could not gauge.

All of the sudden, I am on the ground,

In the silence, I hear not a sound.

Then from behind whispers the voice of the night,

To my deepest level of being, she fills me with fright.

Her voice I have heard countless times, but never before.

Before I run screaming, I call her a whore.

Tears cascade from my useless eyes,

I refuse to listen to her lies.

As I run, I see a light to my side,

Perhaps my salvation, I might find.

Upon the wall the light does swing,

But mercy, to me it does not bring.

There before me, upon the sand,

As a shadow in a light, there she stands.

Her shape cuts through existence like a knife,

Within her heart, brew desires of strife.

Her mane, is as the void,

With it come terrors, only fools do not avoid.

She has the eyes of a dragon, but this must be a lie,

For if this beast is a dragon, than so am I.

Her form is a horse, of course. Like that of the great white force.

But of that she is a travesty,

Her very existence, was born of fallacy.

She is her shadow, with vision so narrow.

With her morals which are so very skewed,

She does not see, how her life is crude.

She does not wish to walk upon the land,

But fly above, the world obeying all demand.

The whispers from her lips I hear,

They bring upon my mind, The Fear.

Through the celestial sand below, I scramble,

To find something to silence her ramble.

I find the stone, which I so needed,

So that I might continue my life, unheeded.

The stone in my hoof, it is thrown,

So it might knock her, from her lofty throne.

The sound pierces me to my core,

Like the sound of a slamming door.

The mirror shatters upon the wall,

A few shards, to the floor, they do fall.

Towards where she stood, I did run,

Only to have all my world come undone.

How can this be?

It is not me!

Between me and my reflection,

There can be no connection!

For my hooves, my limbs, my mane,

They are not the same!

I can see them with my very eyes.

This mirror must only tell lies.

I look deep, maybe too deep, at the darkness inside.

Truth, I still manage to defy.

“It cannot be,” is all my reflection can reply.

She laughed at the truth I did deny.

Our voice cackled, from the darkness behind.

Only foolish foals break mirrors, now there is no place to hide!

The last light goes out, I am overcome by the final tide.