Oh the day when the sun hid,
Darkness rose, dancing in gloom
The leaves and flowers, are shed
Black roses had begun to bloom.

The Sun, high and bright,
Was not seen since the day.
Dweller of solar light,
Prepared sacrifices to pray.

But nil response they got,
And generations went by.
The youngster all forgot,
The ball of hope, above & high.

The sun was a forgotten tale,
None awaited his arrival.
Who still desired the scorching gale,
Were fanatics, in denial.

In the middle of the night
The stars twinkle tonight
A treasure that sparkles
And with a shimmer so bright
They dance in the light
In beauty they've captured our dreams.

Evangeline, on the soulless night of February, I continue growing my broken wings. I remain sentimental, wasting my tears away. When I look at you, all I sense is the growing impatience that I will never be able to sit with you.

Even if I bloom with these wings and my graceful tears, I don't believe you will hear my silent pleas and whimsical, hopeful yearnings.

I am a tree with seeds of sadness buried deep in the earth. A rotting fruit of desires. I could never be as majestic as you, chère Evangeline. I am eloquently silent, with my lips tightly shut; I am a crumbling mountain, and madness slowly decapitates my light—but make it poetical.

Make my sadness profoundly graceful. Make my body arch like the slipper orchids. Make me a beautiful yet distant star, Evangeline.

You are my love eternal
I may be tired as I am more nocturnal
       But it is all worthwhile
                                          Because I get to see your smile
My starlight love eternal