Those who are prudent belong to the Moon.

In life your mind was sharp,

A crescent sickle to pierce ignorance and darkness alike.

Not a decision went by without you knowing,

Not a single shadow tripped your feet

Or flame licked your heart.

You did well, but an imperfection remains:

You were not brave.

Enjoy your rest, the philosopher musing on their cowardice.



Those who are just belong to Venus,

Every seed an action and a gift.

You loved and you nurtured,

You gave everyone their dues with the utmost kindness.

Your heart spread roots like veins,

Growing without control like cancer.

You loved, and love knows no restraint;

Without temperance, it is a madness.

Enjoy your rest, blood ever flowing from your kindness.



Those who are temperant belong to Mercury.

Glory unending, close to the Sun but only as a shadow.

You did good, because you knew of the rewards.

Your heart was bleak, void of love and justice.

But you did good, your ambitions saved lives.

So rest knowing the light you aspired to be,

Is but a shadow before the Sun.

But it is good enough, isn't it?



Those who are courageous belong to Mars.

Some wielded swords, others their own fists,

Always braving the void with fire.

The catacombs grew bleaker,

The nights grew darker,

Bullies and tyrants grew arrogant.

None of them stood the flames,

And neither did you,

Martyr most beloved.

Yet, lacking prudence and insight,

You can't help but feel amiss,

Like all of this could had been avoided.

Rest, senseless hero.



Those who are prudent and courageous,

Those who love truly with restraint,

Those bask in the Sun forever.

So long ago was the first person

Who looked to the rising light

And felt undying love and devotion.

Religions and civilizations came and went,

And the Sun remained.

And even as it burns and consumes,

It is humanity and all of its glories and flaws.