On the eve of the full moon

Orb, ball, sphere, whatever --
   your brightness provides but little
   to light the world below

Epitome of form without function
   inspiring stupid words and stupider songs
   madness among men and hounds

Rising some egomaniacal tyrant of the skies
   "All hail the slave king!" they chant,
   dragged by your chains of gravitas

Never involved, arguable effects on the tide
   "Leave me be!" you shout in silence,
   "Leave us be!" the universal reply

Living in the shadow, they once thought you
   the brother and equal of the sun,
   trickery exposes the child of earth

The beasts look to the skies
   flights, chants, howls, all manner
   of madness in your ineffectual wake