Moonlit shadows dance upon the pond of shimmering delight
but a representation of beauty, fraught with fear, golden streaks from height
These ponies, scarce of the day, and their mother, blind to their love of her night,
banished for twelve thousand moons, surely a scourge, a plague, a blight
taken from her children by the sun they so hold contempt
it's master untouchable, goddess, utterly exempt
Hidden away in cities bleak, fitting for those who revel in dark
different yet naught, sharing a symbol, a key, a mark
civilizations split in twain, legends, mysteries, rose upon rows
a lost spark, a search for freedom, trapped into books upon shelves, their word goes
salvation, their savior, a sparkle in the moon
freeing their mother from mind breaking gloom
silent thanks and silent prayers, a pony gives smile
the night, shall be yours, at least, for this while.
I've been up all night, so I understand if it's no good.
