Lunar Tears.

Poor little moon. Sad little moon, in the big, black sky. You're all alone, sans some stars. But they aren't much comfort. When the morning comes, you watch them trickle away like grains of sand in an hourglass. Running out, one by one. Falling softly, like snow. Please don't hang your head and cry.

And when the sun comes out and chases away the stars, you remain. You feel like dying. But you don't. You sleep. Simply sleep. And when you do, the tears fall. Not stardust, but little moonstones. Falling softly, like snow.

You may sleep, but you will never die.