Born To The Rising Sun

born to the rising sun... march to death

(poem)

Daisies fill the eyes of the blinding sunlight.
O, how beautiful they grow on the meadows charmed with fragrance.
Morning chains the mist sweetly enamored by lovers...
as they kiss... as they feel the solace therein.
Flowers caress the raging white light.
Lovers break free from the bizarre scene.
as dreams run steadfast on the meadows at rest.
Thoughts of summer... countless as the stars.
They go to places in their dreams,
Hold hands 'til the sun falls down from the sky so weary.
They leave the meadows undiscovered.
And wander the foreign soil tilled with joys of sorrow.
Love rises and falls from beneath the twilight...
as night sky blooms at ease.
Shadows of love dance under the moonlight's gape...
as the world sleeps tightly inside the night's embrace.
Death comes to lovers at the night of peace.
Flowers dry up and fill the darkness with ashes.
Sepulchral as the music plays death.
Tragic as lovers die... without even saying goodbye