The days seem longer, since you are not around
Clothed by this solitude; a darkness invades me.
Since my sun only sets, and my moon never wakes.
Fire burns within my soul,
Aching every inch of my frail frame
For your arrival.
Only half is left...
Where art thou my love,
Can you not hear thee?
Far among-st the shadows I call.
Scarce heard once more.