Since when do you worry if I am cold or not?
Why would your light warm my soul again
after being confined to desolation
By you, by the way!
Oh, my beloved sunshine!
Haven't I with fascination, been whom
No matter how it burnt
has known enought to tell
You are not that naive?
Isn't it perhaps,
that in the vastness of the firmament,
it might have gotten so monotonous that,
such unquiet mind of yours now
wonders about how longer
this walking anguish,
only standing by her pride,
could resist those abrasive
yet so divine lips before she finally
fades to eternity like the fog
beneath your rays?