Often, I yearn for the visitor of my destiny to come, I am often astray in myself at how he will ask, “doesn’t the scent of the night’s cool air after rain feel entrancing with jazz music?,  I walk upon the grass as the moth heralds it’s sudden appearance before vanishing, I envision him in my mind’s eye arriving gentler than velvet wings before myself in the meadow of white flowers carrying the stars lustre, they behold their floral gaze upon us, the two mortals who cradle each other in their arms as he softly speaks to my ear, “oh songbird, hold the music box of my soul dear, it plays the notes of my heart for you” to which I would remain calm, for I could not find my voice to return his treasure of symphonies, I would linger in this phantasm, though for now I am savoring the sun’s first light over the verdant heights.

The stars that once graced the nights,
Now seemed lifeless and forgotten;
For my hands stained with crimson,
Dripped with the imperceptible reverie
Of long gone, triumphant feelings.

As much as this is a gift,
It is a curse all the same.
Speaking in the tongue of thought,
I seem to think it all,
And I want to speak it all.

Although I wish each time a star passes by,
I still lay silent.
Stolen from my chance to speak,
Is there a way to say this where it'll be heard,
All of it, not just the gems.

if all of the pieces fell into place could we make it through time and through space?
if everything aligned in the sky like we deserved, could it end up being you and I?
if not.... hold me one more time, tell me that in another universe there's a perfect you and I.
kiss me slowly like we have all the time in the world, like when we first fell in love.
I know all we did was try, but some would say it's better this way.
everything was gone in a blink of an eye.
and I guess it just wasn't mean to be you and I.
not in this life, it's not the right time....

How does it feel when the moon is all alone in the night sky?
Even though it has its stars,
Thinking that it has no one,
It goes through its phases all alone.

Doesn't it feel lonely?
But I'm the star who's about to fall, and I still fill the space of the Moon's loneliness.

But when I fall, even my moon forgets my existence.
I'll have no one but me.
I was the one who was the Moon's companion, wasn't I? I guess I was.

I'm nothing but a falling star, and I'm nothing compared to the moon, who's admired every day by many.

They also make a wish when I fall, but I wish I had a chance to fulfill my own wish: to be with my moon.

She doesn't wear vanilla dresses,
Ethereal shoes and a mint beret.
She doesn't accept gluey embraces
And kisses, where the truth is away.

She doesn't like stuffy speeches
About the Moon and stars at her feet.
She doesn't need a fiery chatter,
If there is a hollow behind it.

No use to disturb the Sun in vain
And lead it to shine only for her.
In fact all your cries are trait falsehood.
No need to be so low-lived amateur.

The sea throws a foam right at her feet.
Sea waves are noisy and bold.
Her ear's softly caressed by seagulls.
These birds are the peerless sea gold.

Her clothes are surely relaxed fitting,
And so it has always been.
The wind in her face, unfastened hair,
And he's nearby - it's the ultimate thing.