So pure’s the sky tonight, strange breezes carry echoes from afar; what would it have been, hadn’t the spring of joy dried up nor had the leaves fallen as men at the whim of fate: autumn came, at last we wrote our vows on water, pretending they’d be still, we sensed the stars aligned and ruled a secret kingdom
No words could tell the heights of bliss that we would climb No hand could shape the effigy of our beatitude
no rhyme could seize the day that you were gone and left me a world to wander through longing for another glimpse of you.