After midnight, a tear dribbles down my jaw,
My heart is torn; the darkness is rushing in,
I have been waiting forlorn for the sun at my door,
To see Idyllia glaze when I gaze at my opened door.
But the night is still dreary
As I miss her charm
And I’m still weary
Like a workaholic farmer.
Reminescing of when it was still daylight,
More tears drooling from their seat tattoo my cheek;
No! We had never thought even of twilight,
And through each day, cloud-like glided with no foresight.
Like a barren prairie
I optimistically hope;
The dark is scary,
But my consolation is a dumb praying Pope.
The wall clock sings three and I acquaint despair,
For I realise the truth is yelling out.
I dry my tears, she won’t come, the truth stabs my Coeur.
But my wish for light is forever, past when I lose my hair.
Hope she’ll come back even as I occupy my hearse.
Farewell fair fairy,
My silken girl of Utopia,
My nights will always be dreary,
And great will my fear be,
But I shall be fine, Idyllia.