Trace my skin with your warm fingertips,
She said after she swore her love with that last kiss.
Before the rays of a certain light ruptured in an infernal rage,
Nay a fault of a lover that cannot be swayed.
Nymphs wept as their Goddess mourned,
To a deceitful choice that led to a night well torn.
Envy was he with a harp at day,
Of a tale from she who told a story of a heroic way.
Under the evening sky they used to sat by the fire,
And under the blankets of stars, t’was euphoria to dire.
For she took him for a ride in the heavens at night,
Placed him in the sky and darling dearest we all know why.
A tribute to the wild and lovers at bay,
For he who departed in the stars he laid.