[Edalune]

On the crest of a gentle hill, a haunting melody calls to the stars above. She basks in the moon's silver glow.

A beckon, a warning--

Nothing is sacred

Beneath the light of the moon, a song calls out, in ascension and starlight. Her hand extends,
delicate and yearning.

Beneath the celestial canopy, her voice lingered, both haunting and restless... 
A song to the heavens, a defiance of the lands, with each note trembling with her longing.

Perhaps it was the echo of her borrowed humanity, an otherworldly hymn that thrummed against a world of mortal sensibilities.

[Edalune]

Upon a field of flowers in bloom.
Laying; resting. Hurting.

A tune, a muse, a question-pose:

"It must be life imitating life."

"Manipulating varying degrees of wrong and right,"

"I guess it might just possibly--"

"---May be all unraveling . . . According to plan."

"I will still reach the stars."

[Edalune]

I touched the sky.

I became a star;
I watched the death of a God; and the creation of another.

But what of my story?

Too soon; pages left unturned- the ink still fresh with no more words to be written.

Astadora, I miss you.
I want to be by your side again.

I do believe this is it.