“Cold hearted orb that rules the night,” proclaimed the Minstrel in Song.
His connection to the River of Creativity that courses through the Universe, wetting our souls with deep insight and wisdom, revealed that to him as “Truth.”
But, is it truly?
No. I think not.
Born in torment, Artemis broke free and roamed the wilds seeking her own under the silver, lunar light that illumines the night; illumines the heart.
“Freedom,” the goddess cried out in the forest she so loved.
Freedom, in the water reflection of her friend and charge as its image rippled on the surface of the water.
“Cold hearted orb?”
No.
Rather, freedom that shines in the silver-lumined teardrop that slips silently down my cheek.
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