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