Starlit evening skies

Stained red with a bleeding horizon

Purple clouds drift wearily by,

Shadowy in the golden infinity

Delicate as spring's fresh lilies

Powerful as a December's night

Ironic twists of fate and tradition,

Where dark and light and

All that is different


Nightingales sing their peace

With the world

The great stars drip with the sky's blood

Death shall be ever hesitant in pity

Yet awoken again shall be the wounds in

A rising and setting of the greatest of stars