Established landmarks removed test the fates
Burning wind in a vacant sky
Rearranged cosmic hemispheres of mind
Oracle of day not seen with naked eye

The need for warmth a thing of the past
Frigid waters the basis of new-fangled cell
Tortured derelicts kept from spiritual vision
Oracle of night hangs in day’s empty shell

Dubious means to generate a sun of artificial light
But a fling cannot replace a love that is shunned
Yet warm rays of sunlight still flow above the temporal
Still hanging in defiance of the 60 cycle hum

Regain your bearings oh heart of true light
Everything in its place: oracle of day and oracle of night.

The earth is so beautiful, isn’t it?
So beautiful that even the moon revolves around it.
Their love, as pure as the love of a bee for a flower.

Like the rainbow that only appears
Just to see the rain that calls it.
It's like a butterfly with colorful wings.
Just like the thorns that protect the roses,
The sun keeps the earth safe.

But what about the moon?
The moon is the great admirer of the earth.
It always stays alone even though it has its earth.
The moon, which is ten times more beautiful than the sun,
Loves the earth whose beauty cannot be described in words.

Even the love of rain for earth is the purest kind.
Because it always purifies the earth and nourishes it.
It calms down the earth which has suffered a lot.

Many love earth in different ways,
But nobody can love the earth as the moon does.
Because the moon dies before the earth,
Sacrificing itself for its eternal love.

his heart is a flaming fire
only she can quench it's desire

his chest is ardent
as if it contains the sun
their love can't be undone

I can feel the warmth of the sun that yet hasn't seen rise.
But I have a feeling that she'll come and fill my day with surprise.
I can't see it but I feel it.
The same way I sense a dim night.
While the clouds are trying to hide the sun.
in a losing fight.
I just hope that that night is never too scary.
I hope that I once again see light.

Someone has thrown another coal,
It asked me to burn my worst
Bewitched by illusion
Like the little match girl—
But isn't that the dream I seek
To dive into the hole like Alice did
So was me being awake
Really the best that it could be;
Can't I stay here burning
Until the sun I became?

Every little thing you do,
It lights me up.
Almost if I was a pool of oil,
That your passion set aflame,
I will burn each night and day.
So that the sun can never set,
On our lightning love.