Supplementary Content

STORY:

Kalid descended the wooden staircase, his footsteps measured and hesitant. The morning sun cast a warm glow over the rustic dining area. Plates and cups adorned the rough-hewn table, remnants of the morning meal.
"Late again for breakfast, Kalid?" The voice that greeted him bore the resonance of age, like the whisper of time's unfolding tapestry.

Kalid turned toward the source of the voice, his eyes meeting his grandfather.
"Stargazing, were you?" The old man's tone was both indulgent and reproachful, a subtle dance of emotions familiar between them.

Kalid settled into his seat, a crooked smile forming as he replied, "Aye, Grandfather. Not just the stars, but the lights in that rocket town across the plains, they beckon to me. There was something stirring there all night."
The old man's brows arched, lines etching deeper on his brow. "The lights again, Kalid? The folly of men knows no bounds."

Kalid's eyes sparkled, a fire kindled by his own convictions. "But Grandfather, this time is different. They're preparing for a launch. Jonah told me. He heard from his father that they're sending someone up this time, defying the heavens themselves."

The old man's gaze narrowed, his voice carrying a weight of disillusionment and experience. "We were not meant to tread among the stars. There was a time of arrogance, long before the shattering of the lunar ring, when men dared to pierce the celestial veil. It was such recklessness that brought the world to ruin. And they, with their insatiable yearning for the skies, have learned nothing. Nine times they've sent their rockets aloft, the first but when I was young boy as yourself. Nine times have they been humbled, their ambitions crushed by the rain of lunar debris. And yet, here we stand on monsoon's morning, and still they persist."

Kalid's retort was swift, tinged with youthful confidence. "The monsoon's tempest has yet to arrive. The skies remain clear, the forecast promising a break by this afternoon, when they're set to launch. And this time, Grandfather, it's different. I can feel it. It seems like they all come down, I know, but they wouldn't dare to send someone up unless they were certain."

A heavy sigh escaped the old man's lips. "Millennia have coursed through the hourglass since the day the moon rent asunder. Its shattered fragments, a double-edged legacy, beacon and curse. They would do well not to disturb it further. We forsook that hubris, retreated from the precipice of pride. To return to it now would be an affront to the lessons of time."

Kalid's gaze fell, a shadow of disappointment descending upon him. But his grandfather's contemplation was not yet finished. After a moment, the old man spoke again, his words a musing rumination.

"Very well, Kalid. I sense your yearning. Perhaps, for a brief respite from our daily toils, we shall venture to the plains. We shall witness, with our own eyes, this endeavor of men. To witness a fall, if not a rise."

Kalid's countenance brightened, a fervent hope rekindled. "You mean it, Grandfather? We shall go?"

The old man turned his gaze to Kalid and nodded with a smile.
Kalid's joy was palpable, his voice a reflection of his unyielding belief. "You'll see, Grandfather. This time, it won't falter. We shall see it right."

The young boy's conviction met the wisdom of years past, both embarking on a journey to witness a moment that resonated with the echoes of forgotten ages.

POEM:

I see the light, it was in town,
A spectral dance, in night's dark gown.
Following all night, tracing its course,
It is someone—a human force.

Seems like they all come down,
Skyborne dreams in stardust drowned.

Rainy days are a go, yet hope remains,
In whispered lore and ancient strains.
I saw it last night, and so did you,
A tale so old yet feeling new.

That, you ever knew, a truth profound,
And the ones you saw, we saw right,
Guiding us through the endless night.

It seems like we always take it back,
Memories on a fading track.
Feels like long ago we stepped,
On lunar soil where angels wept.

And take all that I could as sin,
For moonbeams call, from deep within.

Seems like they all come down,
But perhaps, one day, we'll leave the ground.

And if we do, we'll think of then,
When sin and dreams mixed in minds of men.