A celestial couple drifted in the stars,
their love once a dance of cosmic light,
now torn by silence,
a shadow between them,
like a distant galaxy growing cold.
He, a god of the sky,
her, a queen of the night
yet she, the one who bathed in the stars’ glow,
felt the emptiness of his touch,
the quietness in his words,
the lack of gestures that once spoke of love.

“Why do you never do something special for me?”
she whispered, her voice like a comet streaking through the dark,
her sadness trailing behind like dust in the endless night.

He, with his thousand moons,
his suns and constellations,
had no answer,
no stars to guide him in this forgotten place.
But he asked, finally,
his voice trembling like the first star of the evening,
“What do you want, then?”

Her eyes, dark and vast,
reflected the endless sky.
Her wish was simple, yet filled with galaxies:
"I want a ring," she said,
"Made of moonlight.
A ring so beautiful,
its shine will outlast the dawn,
and its curve will be as perfect
as the crescent of a lover's smile."
Her fingers traced the air,
drawing the shape of something unseen,
something only love could hold.

He searched the heavens,
seeking a moon that was not like the others,
a moon that shone with the essence of her heart,
something brighter than the stars,
more tender than the night.
For her,
he would find the most beautiful moon
a pearl of silver light,
radiating the glow of a thousand suns.
He sought it in the deepest craters,
where light kissed the darkness,
where dreams of the universe were born.
He found it,
a crescent moon,
its edges sharp and graceful,
a sliver of pure stardust,
just waiting to be shaped.
With trembling hands,
he began his work
forging a ring,
its band soft as the space between their hearts,
its surface smooth as the lullaby of distant stars.
And there, he embedded the moon,
its shine is so bright,
so eternal,
it would never fade
even as the years swept by.

He carved it with care,
with love more precious than time,
until the crescent was complete,
a mirror of her beauty,
a reflection of the love he had forgotten to show.
And when he presented it,
his hands trembling like stardust falling,
he whispered,
"Here is your moon,
a piece of the sky,
a symbol of my love
for you alone."

Her eyes softened,
the universe held its breath,
and in that moment,
the silence between them
was filled with light,
with moonlight,
with the love they had once shared,
a love that now glimmered
in a ring,
a ring made of a moon.

.    .    .