Since the last time I've seen her, time grew old,
Flowers grew weary and fountains sip dry.

Moons moved away, Moons settled back,
Moon as I have been, by wanting her back.

Pining by the window while despair flutters by,
Feathers of anguish scared deep and burrowed,
Unhinged my lawful beguile at your smile, at your kiss.

A swift resolve at an ill tempted gesture and there you
dropped away, like a tear from a feather.

So there I sat, sat and wait, for the forthcoming day of
your ill-content.