With Light Sprang Forth The Tree Of Life Poem by Iohannes Silvaticus

You were the sun.
And you were burnt by the mere fact that you were it
And you set all around you ablaze
To make better a crown of your glory.
This splendid aura fit not for human eyes.
You are queen;
All are humbled and not deserving.

To you, all bent towards.
Like the plants, like the flowers,
Like how you pulled me away from my centre,
Falling for you.
And in taking the fall for you,
Love,
I took the fall for everything else.

My love was a tree that reached for your light.
You are the heat that keeps my passion burning.
This is the love that grew
Towards the starlight in your eyes.
Love that roots grew deep
Planted deep within me.
Still growing, still growing.

Now gone, you are the moon.
But the tree does not whither.
For this love needs not water, needs not air,
But light.
The light splendid, but lesser than the past,
The warmth is nostalgia, is memory.
Still, all it needs is light.

And the flame in me is yet to be extinguished,
The passion has become a part of me.
It cannot fade lest I should fade,
Lest your light should fade,
Lest the moon crumbles and sun fails to rise,
Lest the all the stars fall from the night skies,
And then, I die.