On this day when your orb covers the disc of the sun, may we remember those virtues of love and justice for which you fought, and may we remain always true to the Silver Millennium.
May we remember not to look directly at yon eclipse, lest we be blinded by your majesty. And may we remember not to use those glasses we got off Amazon, for lo, they are fake.
And speaking of amazons, we pray that on this day, you will not allow that Dead Moon Circus, once imprisoned by your mother, to be released by the phlebotinum of yon solar eclipse. Or, if you do allow it, that you totally kick their butts forthwith.
And lead us not into temptation, especially the temptation to make out with any alicorn ponies that might appear to us during this eclipse, even though that would be kind of hot.
And may your Crystal Tokyo come, and your ten-century reign over the Solar System, that we may live long lives of peace and sugar-free cake, at least until your daughter completely screws things up.