He was a Daytime Wind-howler all covered in shrouds of grief
She was a Sunset Nightingale with pink and golden wreaths
Upon her head with hair so dark
It made one feign to weep
She held out hands of magic pearls and wiped his tears asunder
The fragile mess lay in her lap
The pale sky switched to thunder
She wasn’t bothered by his past
She’d sail on any ship
She’d fall in love real fast
Staring deep into majestic mirrors
She’d take on any form
If not for howler’s poison kiss,
She’d run right straight inside the storm
But for him, there were thorns everywhere
Blanketing the mother earth; the sky, the sea, the air
From whence he came nobody knows, but Daytime Wind-howler howls and howls and growls
Lets his teeth show
While Sunset Nightingale sings her love
Of daffodils and peppermint groves
Until the day when such grave laments
should
be
let
go