The Moon Is Falling, Skull Kid.

As I stand upon this clock tower,
I gaze up at the sky above me.
The great Clock Town is at it's final hour,
A dreadful atmosphere as the bells ring.

Panic is spread throughout the clearing.
I keep myself silent, my breath now hitched.
People evacuating, the Moon's face leering.
Look at the tragedy that my greed has stitched.

As I glance one way, I see a bitter-sweet scene.
Two townsfolk embracing their fate with sorrow.
They comfort each other, nonchalant despite the screams,
Because they know for a fact there won't be a tomorrow.

Suddenly, a pair of eyes lock with mine from below.
The desperate, yet determined eyes of a boy who's face I know all to well.
The silent alleged "hero's" gaze unwavered by the moon's glow.
'Look at the mess you've made.' His expression seems to scream to me as my heart begins to swell.

I fall to my knees with the weight of a heavy heart.
The truth, the light, being shed on my insights.
"What have I done?!" an ear-splitting cry,
my voice ricocheting through the night.

Even if I scream "I'm sorry" over and over until my voice gives out, it wouldn't be enough.
As the moon crashed into the down, I would've howled of my remorse with a voice so gruff.

But he had already played the song.