Evangeline, on the soulless night of February, I continue growing my broken wings. I remain sentimental, wasting my tears away. When I look at you, all I sense is the growing impatience that I will never be able to sit with you.

Even if I bloom with these wings and my graceful tears, I don't believe you will hear my silent pleas and whimsical, hopeful yearnings.

I am a tree with seeds of sadness buried deep in the earth. A rotting fruit of desires. I could never be as majestic as you, chère Evangeline. I am eloquently silent, with my lips tightly shut; I am a crumbling mountain, and madness slowly decapitates my light—but make it poetical.

Make my sadness profoundly graceful. Make my body arch like the slipper orchids. Make me a beautiful yet distant star, Evangeline.

You are my love eternal
I may be tired as I am more nocturnal
       But it is all worthwhile
                                          Because I get to see your smile
My starlight love eternal

Star loved moon,
and he did too.

They hated him,
but he never knew.

She shattered,
by their cold hand.

Who is at fault?
I was wrong,
you tried,
but I,
I was wrong.

I didn’t mean to,
but they willed us,
to fall apart.

Now the star’s heart is split,
half for the moon,
half for them.

the sun envys the moon and stars
he wishes he could have something like they do
but he cant
the moon and stars have this bond
one thats not like the others
its like they were drawn together
and they cant move away
the stars was scared
but the moon promises to keep her safe
to protect her for all of eternity
the sun was jealous of this
he wants someone to look out for him
the way the moon does for the stars
nothing can touch the sun though
they would simply burn.