Fickle

Like a rock thrown forth
Rage soars through the skies
Of wind sailing north
It is me, the one who cries

You pull me to despair, Sunstarer
You pull me down, not any fairer
You erase my smile,
Your smirk I revile.

Our moods oft swing
Our sadness oft sing
What happens then
when the Sun and Fool clash?

Woe to the lovers

With arguments in balderdash

The Fool loves you, yes

The Fool reviles catching the stress

Thus 'tis the job of a lover

And lovers we are,
Lovers we be

As lovers we try

To avoid each other's melancholy

This is not the end

For our love so persists

Hurdle is our fickle emotion

But none affect our love devotion