Emma Batista

Moonchild 

I am the moon, born from strife, 

Shaped by impact, forged through life. 

Theia struck, and I was torn — 

What innocence could be reborn? 

Crescent marks upon my hand, 

Hold the anger — do you understand? 

In furrowed brows, my fury hides, 

Yet I am calm beneath the tides. 

Once, I was the proto-Earth, 

Full of wonder, childlike mirth. 

Yet collisions stole my light— 

How could I fight, alone in night? 

Loneliness weighed down my soul,

But I refused to lose control.

In silence, I began to rise,

Fierce and bright beneath dark skies.

Now, my magma heart is set, 

Hardened into passion’s net. 

I glow, the light I meant to be— 

Will you see the moon in me? 

For every child who feels unseen, 

I am the moon—their guiding beam.