A Dream Recollection — Goodbye To The Face On The Moon

For years, I’ve admired the face on the moon. Then….
I’m suddenly conscious amongst chaos.
Black ash quickly surrounds me—surrounds everything.
I hear blasts like canons storming the sky as enflamed masses of matter cascade towards us…causing so much destruction upon collision.
It is our moon’s destruction, and I remain motionless…
It is our moon’s destruction, and few others remain motionless…
It is our moon’s destruction while most run frantically into darkness…
As if the burning moon finally melted away a façade of strength they’ve built to hide behind. They remain frantic, not ready to die, because they have yet to truly live.
They remain frantic, because they thought they could disguise who they really are from even a stronger power.
They remain frantic, because as it all comes crashing down, we are left with uncertainties–
Uncertainties about who we are and who we will have to explain it to.
These frantic faces become a blur rushing past me, but maybe that’s all they ever were?
The only face that was ever true was the face on the moon, but now it’s gone.
Sacrificed into our own invisible monster…remembered by those who stopped to look up at him.
I still look up to my mangled moon and see the lasting face of a martyred angel.
Protect me sweet Moon, for your darkness will never equate to evil.

…Yet the sun does not rise the next day