If love were a gift for all, Cyril and Nate would never know. Their love, branded as taboo and horrid, as if two boys in love were truly so wrong. One, a quiet star, navigating the darkness, guided by the glow of his mother's unlit cigarettes. The other, a radiant sun, shining brightly despite the pain, his father, a proud priest, forcing him to bury his true self. If you, my dear reader, are ready to immerse yourself in a tale woven with grief and pain, then be my guest. Let your eyes wander over the poems my hands have written. [English isn't my first lenguage soi apologise for any mistakes.]