It used to know a boy,
Who's eyes were like the grass in the spring,
Kissed by dew in May.
Eventually,
The grass died,
The boy went away.
I know another, with eyes like the sun,
That sparkles over Hyrule,
He's my Meadows of fun.
Another I know, his are dark like storms,
Like January fury,
Hell hath an icy scorn.
But this last one, it seems,
He has eyes like summer,
Deep green of my dreams
Makes my heartbeat like a drummer.
His eyes are my escape,
The other's do contest,
But when I look into my own,
I see oceans of unrest.
