beyond the mundae...

As the sun slowly sinks,

For this is his time to die,

To make the world devoid,

Of Light and warmth -

The saviour to our eyes,

Rises the moon, and

By her light, we perceive

Love. Perhaps, man has -

Forgotten to love and admire

And the sun becomes an icon

For he dies everyday, only

To let his beloved, the moon

To rise and shine.