Twenty-third Thought

Twilight snakes around the tallest spire, of an empty cathedral
The stained glass fidgets, a pane pulls lose, falls, and then smashes against the floor
Specks of dust float through the amber and violet light
A large book rests on the altar
It's pages are ripped out, and litter the ground, almost invisible under the layers of dust
They rest dutifully, awaiting salvation
The pews watch the altar
Gazes never wavering, regardless of the careless manner in which they are strewn, knocked over, not yet defeated

The light fades, faster and faster
And the the queen, the lady moon shines brightly through the windows

Midnight flowers awaken, unfurling their leaves and petals, and turn to face her, peeking trough the cracks in the glass paintings, through the missing panes

A cool breeze filters into the cavernous space, disturbing the pages ever so slightly

The oldest resident have long known Lady Moon
The have seen her rise and set, wax and wane, though their gaze never falters from the now eviscerated Bible
The pews do not bend, they crack and splinter
The pages do not heal, they yellow
The glass does not provide warmth, it rests cold and hard

Lady Moon watched the cathedral being built, she watched it attended to, and she watched it abandoned
Lady moon is constant
The life beneath her grows, and dies, and creates
The stone structure is rigid, and narrow
It has known Lady Moon and ignored her

Lady Moon is outside, her loves grow, and expand, and are vibrant and full of life
The Cathedral is all inside, cut off, cold, hard and never ventures further than it's own walls

Lady Moon is Queen
Lady Moon is patient
She is soothing, calm and wise
Lady Moon is constant

Cathedral is just for now
Cathedral is controlling, impatient, and angry
Arbitrary and vindictive

Lady Moon will stay
Cathedral will go