Set in the sky’s horizon at dawn
was the Morningstar.
Luna, the moon,
tagged close behind
trailing in silver stillness,
as the brightness of the Son of Man
broke over the earth.

No words can express
the secret agony of my soul,
as I sunk into this celestial companionship
surrounded, yet alone.

There is nothing new under the sun.
No joy untouched by sorrow.
Even this is vanity.
Alone on my throne.