As the edge of the moon touched the top of the waterfall the cascade turned the color of the pale yellow moon. Slowly the light touched the river and began to flow down the river. He watched, pensive, as his cloak flapped int he light breeze.
Melting Moon: I don't know if this is a real picture, but it doesn't matter. Take me to where the moons melts into the waterfall, where laughter never ceases, where love is always present, where there is no room for hate.