Moonface Is Dead

The swing of Luna hangs in stoic calm,
Since the silver winds are silent.
Swansongs sounding through out the realm.
Moonface left the lantern island.

This were the nights, when all candles glowed,
But it's darker now like shadows of old.
Silent singers haunt their song of moonface,
Who to death moved on.

No pale patch will ever fall,
Across nights withering bed.
This place is cursed since moonface is dead.