How beautiful is the moon,
Glowing brightly in the night sky.
Hiding herself during noon,
So you'll never know if she cries.

Alone she sits in the sky,
Guiding those who need her light.
Warming the hearts of those who cry,
But always keeping herself locked up tight.

Though surrounded by many stars,
In solitude she would rather be.
A consequence produced by scars,
Shh... Can you hear her silent plea?

Away from people, away from pain,
She hides herself, in plain sight.
I've told you once and I'll tell you again,
The story of a beautiful moon
Whose light glows brightest at night.