Under The Cover of Darkness

In the endless night, a radiance rises. It is not dazzling like the sun, but veiled, mysterious. It is Selene, the immortal moon, draped in her mantle of stars. Her veil does not conceal: it protects. It covers the fragile dreams of mortals, weaving around them a garment of silence and gentleness. Beneath her pale glow, wounds grow quiet and souls recover the peace of a celestial cradle. The mantle of Selene is woven of mists and spreads across the night sky like a sacred fabric, embroidered with dusts of gold and silver and stitched to the constellations. Each thread is a prayer, each star a promise. When we lift our eyes to the heavens, she does not look at us: she enfolds us. She knows our doubts, our vigils, our sleepless nights, our silent tears. Yet she demands nothing. She is content simply to shine, discreet and faithful, like a silent companion who never abandons us. Beneath her mantle, the world is remade. Dreams escape their prison and take flight, free. Thus the moon is not merely a star: she is a guardian, a confidante, a lover of shadows. And her mantle is not a garment, but the promise that even in the darkest heart of night, there is a light.