Dusk's burning kiss descends on a green field
Where once, two lovers so serenely slept,
Yet now, mere torment and anguish is wept,
From the grievous eyes of the mourning knight.

"Hespera... I invoke thee..."

The lost, widowed shepherd
Still awaiting his love's return
Is led by his herd through the perpetual fields
And the last huntsman
Of the forest
Returns to his empty cottage

The night-wishing owl seizes the robin's tree throne
Which mournfully weeps its last autumn leaves,
Whilst the moon, she slumbers in her deep sea of stars,
Oh, sleepy, silent forest!

Beneath the forsaken yew,
A grieving man does lie,
Curled up and alone as if to imitate death.
How he cries to the moon,
But only wolves respond,
Do mournfully respond.

"Dear Fate, please loosen your cruel choking shrouds,
Rekindle our unity for one last spring",
His desperate prayers echoed through the moors,
Soon to be hushed by the forest folk.

Then through the feral darkness, a bright light did shine,
Dancing and swaying to whispers of night
A colourful laughter did through the misty air resound
Bewitching, bemusing his once-sombre soul.

" 'neath this celestial blanket,
Let our fatigued eyes rest,
May the busy stars guide my lost, broken ship,
Across the waveless lakes,
Through the still, moonlit fields
To the Northern Oaked forests,
And home to thee."

These sweet woodland whispers at last to him returned,
And his love again lay wedlocked beside him,
The cozy midnight leaves did craft them a bed,
They slept beneath the dawning sky 'til the morrow was told.

When the sun's radiant army eclipsed the moon,
Its playful hand teased his dew-clad eyes,
The roaming deers' kiss unfettered his hands
From the icy clasp of winter.

He turned to greet his one true love,
But his tearful eyes did spy,
Beside him, an mere empty leaf bed
Where abandoned hope did lie.

Beneath this forsaken yew,
Where they had once embraced,
A lonely cradle now swings so poetically.

"Doth my lovelorn heart not belong with thee... in Zenith?"

From this cradle on the tree top,
His tortured neck gently rocks,
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,
Down he will come, cradle and all...