There is a silence
that never faces the sun.
A place
untouched by morning,
unmoved by the pull
of familiar eyes.

The dark side of the moon
is not evil-
only hidden,
only still.

It holds secrets
not because it chooses to,
but because no one bothers
to stay long enough
to listen.

It spins in shadow,
constant,
patient,
bearing the weight of myths
and the loneliness
of always being imagined,
never known.

What lives in the dark
is not always waiting
to be found.
Some things exist
to remind us
that not everything
needs to shine
to be real.