Sweet is the shade of twilight glade
Sweet is the opulence of smiling shade.
For he who fathoms the abysmal arcane
Wonders what is cryptic, is all that sane?
Sweet is the rose on a rosy day
Have they lulled into a mystic spray?
When the night yawns to the morning tide
When the moon kisses the morning light
The sun dawns the living morn
In quest of a long yearned forlorn.
Is it all a mystic myth?
Bliss of the lonely
A tender hitch?