I never did grow used to the dying of my sun,

Slowly… I lost all feeling… that which made me human.

Your absence left a dark, unfillable hole,

And a heart… shriveled, brittle… like charcoal.

I dare not speak, nor write of how I feel,

For in doing so, I think of you… and all that was real.

Wherefore art thou, my star-crossed love, my Romeo?

And why could we not drink of the same Cup of Ambrosio?

It is I alone who remains now, though your spirit hovers near,

Bound to earth and duty… trudging through second, month, and year.

Years turn to centuries, eternity has come and gone,

Yet I linger in one place, where time’s passage has withdrawn.

It reminds me of you… where heaven greets the sea,

Performing sacred rites beneath an ancient almond tree.

Lying in silky grass, we’d watch the fading light,

And see the sky bleed red as we’d bid the sun goodnight.

I lie here now, alone, wishing on each star for your return to me,

But such would defy the fates… and cruel, cruel destiny.

The sky full of stars feels empty and cold,

A place once so magical, now hurt to behold.