Moon lift for a cycle

The proud sea is about to claim it's cargo from safe bays and too sea. Soon it will drag all too familiar faces north, along the Norwegian cost. And they'll part from their familiarities for a full face of the Moon. Tears will flow as a withness of the hollow and sorrow in her heart. But the ever present smile in her kiss and warmth in her laughter can testify too the joyious return of the cargo. Had it not been for the sadness in her eyes, one would imagine the sea was a familiar of her kin. Lullbyes can be heard like a sirens call in the chilled night time. In the blue face of the moon. On the old tales of sailers lost to a shipwrecks, where of tidious effort one sailar has scrambled a shore, the wispers goes this is the time where the oceans wrath is unleached and her wrath will drag you under and leave you beneath the oceanwaves to bath in the oceans tears for eternity. If a sirens call is caught to a sailers ear, he can be safe assured the sea is intend to ferry him safe across the wrath unleached. Leaving him shealtered from the crizcore and ten.

She weeps now. Her kiss is left half seperated with a curve in the creek of her rosy cheek. Her forehead is crowned with a wary frown over her icyblue. They seem to scan a ocean far at sea. Her vision repreeve her from her worries. Slowly she turns and see her old friends gathering around her. Those abandoned by her. No montain seperate them now, the warmth she radiates can comfurt any lost soul, yet the ace in her heart is felt even in the radiance cause the empathy spreads with each heartfelt act. Rejoined in a hug with others left at land, she is half healed. Still an half yearn for the one roaming the north coast. Soon she says, soon across the mercy of the goddess herself her half wil rejoin her when the moon is reborn. Follow the nightly sky and hope can be read she wispers to the wind.