The Exile in the Moon

Your face leans down,

etched in shadow and light.

I have seen your sorrow

in every crater,

the scars of crimes

no one remembers.

Exiled thief,

or breaker of Sabbath,

or wanderer who looked too long—

the tales shift,

but the sentence remains:

to shine forever,

yet never be free.

Do you envy the stars,

brief and burning?

Do you envy the wolf,

whose hunger will one day be sated?

You are eternal,

and eternity is punishment enough.

Still, I look to you.

Because though your silence is heavy,

it is the silence of a companion.

The condemned and the hunter

share the same shadow.

And in your scarred face

I see my own.