The moon penumbra, in inferiority hides
Yet the beauty of thous smile causes the robust harvest shine

The sun is replenished, whenever thou steps outside
you cause the green grass to grow, whilst the weed recede and hide.

The clouds doth weep with thou, when thou art in pain
The mirror cracks in jealously, when thou art being vain

Thy desire to part tulips, doth naught compare to thee
be still thy beating heart, driver of thous insanity

Thou is akin to the fresh fallen snow, that the sun doth naught melt
tucked yonder through the clearing whence the tulips thus wilt

Sadness chained within thy mind, unbearable to beat
as thou layeth in a puddle before thee, in triumph and defeat

The recess in thy loins, doth naught express temerity
for the heart draw it back to thee in repair of its lost virginity

The fiery roja hue of the leave post bloom, follows nature law
yet they doth naught dwindle to the ground because thy art dead
but because they art in awe

Now we cometh unto the end, what more could thou say?
thy words wilst live into perpetuity, well surpassed my grave

As my body doth decay, lain within the hole
the world wilst know of thy beauty and thous cosmic soul