The daffodils had gone to rest
And dusk seemed far away
No stars were there, no guidance
Just lust awake should stay

The sweet, yet perilous fragrance
The air so soft and thick
White sheets for hiding chosen
Should make the fall less steep

Hard earth the battleground tonight
Its black should suit their whim
And then the craze, the passion
Should drive them past the brim

Alas, the light blue morning
Rose-shaded by the sun
Had ended their long struggle
With passion dead and gone

There was relief, no conscience
Would cloud the mind just yet
Solely a mist, that of exhaustion
Should dawn catch in its net

Then those persistent rays of gold
Would tear the fragile bonds
And fear should haunt the restless heart
Till all of it grows cold…