When the dark of the night spread wild and far
When the mourning moon unveiled shamelessly
When the shadows of her dimples did, her beauty, mar
When her naughty, innocent face showered magic on me
Lingering I was in a lazy, lousy world of thought
Not feeling the sweetness of an apple that spoke to me.
And when I heard the angel, the war was lost unfought.
Never I felt comforted after Fortune led Irony.
Not one moment passed since, when I haven't felt the sting.
Not one moment passed since, when I haven't cried of pain.
Not one moment passed since, when I had no mourn to sing.
Not one moment passed since, when I hoped not for the angel again.
I felt her touch when wind, with me, philandered.
I knew her voice when morning dew sang to me.
"It is like I almost love her", I often wondered.
Even though I knew I didn't, honest unmistakably.
I sit now, waiting, under these clouds-white and dry
The sounds of silence turning into music in my ears.
Waiting, I did, for the times that passed by.
Waiting, I shall do, for the coming countless years.
Waiting, I shall do, till I meet my life's end.
Waiting, I shall do, till I know the angel is my friend.
