This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. There is no sun yet. The night is still waning. Inside my head I can only notice the stars. The sky is a rising bird. It makes its nest and brings the day of love to the night. I sing my heart now, your song is unheard. The day of love is rising. I sing my heart now, your song is unheard. The day of love is rising. I sing my heart now, your song is unheard. The day of love is rising. We have now found a way. It takes us far away in beauty. It has tried, but we can create it. Years later. I sing my heart now, your song is unheard. The day of love is rising.