With her divine bow she fired
silver arrows that never once
missed their target, but
When the huntress of the moon
gazes upon his grave in the sky,
pleasant dreams rewind the fateful pull;
moonbeam blade stilled, in time.
For only in wishes does a lover’s life
still burn the only fire she the light-bringer
had ever known
Now, man lies upon the grasslands
watching the midnight heavens
to catch the glimpse of celestial tears,
strung loose across the void.
If only, if only,
If only she had missed.