Mania, as the sun hails through the breeze,
and comes to kiss the cheek of the depressed.
the winter is gone and quaintly I remiss about years of longing.
Flux, the ray places the warm degrees to skin and a feeling comes about and begins to spread. Happiness is here, yet it was not missed. Nadir, the sun is robbed by the winds and time, but the warmth still lingers; just to a lesser deegre.

May I miss the first sun of spring again.