Moon Mask Sonata
Mystery of the moonlight
The moon was shining its mysteries that night, down at the lake by the wood.
The lake had a pool of water, but there was also the pool of moonlight and ultimately a pool of darkness. But soon there would be the pool of a person. Oh, and before that of course, the mask.
The light from the moon shone down and melted into the form of the solid mask. Pearl white, two eye holes twisted in delight. Small nose, a permanent delicate smile.
Dark whispery winds caught it up in the air, and danced with it, before catching some of the night itself and casting upon it a cloak and body, where it there stood, complete and in awe of themself.
“Pleasing,” they said.
They then held out their hands and whistled, to which the moonlight melted a pure white flute in their hand.
The Moon Mask then played a song, to which the fowl in the lake bobbed back and forth in the waters.
But the music was so enticing it attracted creatures from the wood, that howled and stared at the Moon Mask person with their hunger.
“No,” the Moon Mask said and reached out a hand and moonlight shot down from the mask and through the hand, scaring them away.
“I only have time for you, my sweetness,” and it was not known who the Moon Mask was talking to, but whoever they were, the Moon Mask danced for them, under the light of the moon.
They did this until the dark night bore a day, taking away their body, and as the fading of the moonlight, so the moon mask.
