You looked beautiful under crestfallen skies,
like the falling petals brushed by the gentle warmness,
the crying clouds meets your hating lips—
then you stood up, and told me how you hated it
when I told you how beautiful you are,
because you said you're not.
I don't see what you see because
my love-blinded eyes only tells me,
you're the only star that shines at night—
the only moon in the whole night sky,
and the only hand I'd hold till death.