Erebus of the day and Selene of the night observe each other in turn
as though to acknowledge the presence of one another from their respective territories
Peacocks stands aside, sentinel, draped in lustred hues.
but the evening star steers clear of the sun, selene with a vision of her own, gleaming,
rousing the eyes of a dark iridescence amidst their twilight calls.
Morning glory is clouded
The eclipse is shrouded with rivalry, veiled in silent murder.
When worlds apart merge, the living begin to wonder
whether intertwining or breaking away is a better choice
regardless though, in the end, the tide is nothing more than a wretched temptation
and if the ripple rewards, it mostly does so with no more than slow-paced anticipation