A scorching image burned into our memories,

Our oceans have forgotten how to flow.

Cool midnight air, a neglected breeze.

Nocturnal creatures, their lives we cannot show.

At first, sleep was impossible.

Completely improbable.

But it's been five years,

With the relentless fire.

It's been five years,

Without beauty that we can no longer admire.

We want,

The place where astronauts landed,

A place where aliens are stranded.

Not just,

What melted Icarus’ wings,

Or what's in the corner of children's paintings?

We miss the moon,

Know that soon,

The rest of us will die,

As the sun will never leave the sky.