My lady yearns to dwell amid the sea;
From ocean floor, to sheltered cove, to bay,
She'd lead the schools of fish in harmony
And frolic with marine mustelidae.
Instead, she hides on lonely isle, away--
Though fearless before maelstrom or typhoon--
Her heart's too filled with sorrow now to play.
She fades away, much like the waning moon.
I wish I could deliver her a boon;
A gift of portent. Origin? Divine.
Some arcane spell, perhaps an eldritch rune--
Whatever piece of magic helps her shine.
Just like the goddess Amaterasu,
Her radiance would light the world anew.