Like a jewel
upon the sky hangs the moon
In seemingly
lonely raptureWhose subtle blues and hidden gloom
The night could never capture
For who could foretell the tragic tale
That would befall our skies above
Our minds are strong, but our hearts are frail
And there is none more tragic than a tale of love
See my friend, the stars they shine
But never did they move
Never losing their heaven’s light
Not as waning as their loving moon
Each night the moon stands in the sky, high above the shrouded trees
And stars they stand, in tragic silence, for never the twain shall meet
