The gilded grass dipped in the golden light
Casts its ebony shadow on the ground.

The vernal songs of a bluebird
Counterpoint our words
On a mesmerising melody,
Where our souls abide.

With exhaustion in our bones;
And words in our minds,
We converse in bliss;
We converse through eyes.

Yet again, time reveals its hoax.

And now the glistening twilight,
Is dappled by the enshrouding...