The Loss

Take a look up to the stars,
in the end of a May's night
so near and yet so far
seems their light,
that's no more
within your sight.
And still turns
the mortal wheel
of this world
cold as steel.
Have the Gods
pity of he
who dies young
as ancients say?
What tomorrow brings
is unknown,
but the past
has his cost.
And still turns
the mortal wheel
of this world
cold as steel.
'Til death of sun
we'll cry a loss...