The sky must be so lonely
that Sun, all he wants is something
that can burn as bright and brilliant
as him, without wasting away,
and being smothered by his flames,

Passion is a vicious killer

And that Moon, her gentle nature
eclipsed by a cold light, harsh and stark
in the inky dark of night
She wants an embrace that won't
freeze and fade and leave more craters,

Love can be a cruel and cold thing

Those stars, they will burn out someday
and in their bright and fleeting life
they ask for a lasting love,
and to be seen as more than just dust
Suspended by air and longing

To be so clustered yet still so alone, the pain of it

The sky is so vast and unending
We forget it can be seen
as empty, too