A Ball Of Hard Rock Suspended In The Space

A ball of hard rock suspended in the space,
Holding no life neither giving any away,
Rolls every thirty days,
I don't understand why,
"As beautiful as the moon" they say,
It has no soul except for the poets,
Who praise it for nothing else they can get,
That moon with ugly mountains and valleys,
It's such a pity nobody sees the tragedy,
A ball of hard rock is what the moon is,
It is cold, has no heart and is ugly from close,
Worthless is what the moon is.

Let The Dark Sky Be Decorated

Let the dark sky be decorated,
With the moon so beautiful and shy,
Make the breeze cool the sky,
And ask the seas to rejoice.

It's in the sky,
Often a part of all dreams,
It's in the songs of those,
Who have seen love in all means.

So many poets, so many poems,
They all can't be wrong,
About the awesome moon,
That holds hearts so strong.

The Auction

There was an auction,
Of a type that was never heard.
The occasion was kept secret,
So that nobody could attend.
A heart was put on sale,
Truly it was an artifact to be sold.
The seller gave the sign,
Waiting for the first bid to arrive.
He heard no word, no voice,
Not even a whisper in disguise.
He hoped sharpening his ears,
Making himself alert as he waited.
He breathed,
"Priceless, priceless, priceless".
And carefully said,
"Sold".
He picked up the heart with a sigh,
Left the place without a quibble.
An angel appeared in his dream that night,
And explained "worthless".