The evening hangs heavy in the air,
the light of fires dimming from neglect.
Soon, my love, the moon will bring night to bear.
'Twil be you and I, and none shall e'er 'spect.
We'll have the darkness to ourselves alone,
a midnight dance for us and only us.
Such gentle a revel has ne'er been known,
but none to witness, nothing to discuss.
Yet, come the morning I am gone away,
a ghost, a whisper of a memory,
and how forgetful you seem come mid-day,
I am but a trace, nagging at your thought.
Yet come night, in shadows fresh we will dance,
rejoice, renewed, remember our romance

Penned by my hand on the 25th of Chronos, in the year 676 AF.