[ Featuring Nairobi ]
Have you ever wondered what lies on the dark side of the moon?
What tales untold?
What tragedies loom?
Her name is Luna.
We revolve carelessly around the sun.
Every angle of the orb identical to its others
In the nakedness of our vantage point.
Its light much too bright for us to linger in our gaze.
Its heat so intense, it devours all that dare to come too close.
Cnd so, we bask in its warmth from a safe distance.
But the moon, her crevices exposed by shadows cast,
Only reveals what she will to our raw sight.
Her brilliance is not her own, but a reflection of the other.
Even her darkness, partial or otherwise, is not her own but a mere shadow of yet another.
She exists suspended in nothingness.
Have you ever wondered what lies on the dark side of the moon?
What tales untold?
What tragedies loom?
Her name is Luna.
Yet in her solitude, she has allowed our approach,
Permitted us to bounce around on her scarred body,
Granted us access to that which she has kept hidden since the beginning of time.
In her vulnerability, her strength revealed. Battered and bruised,
C warrior,
C survivor.
Despite the uncertainties of a hostile environment.
She is the moon.
