Wingless one, hear my plea,
you have a certain destiny.
Shall end with death, but naught in vain,
for she will bring you back again.

Heaven shall look down in sorrow,
for someone will soon die tomorrow.
He shall come back,
as love will prove
that ev'ry thing is just an act.

Hellish creatures run and hide,
from the one you call a guide.
He fights with words and poetry
and sees the world in truest glee.

Small, sad citrus is alone,
lurks around inside his home.
Hopes that they'll never return,
small, sad citrus ceases burn.