I see diamonds in velvet, a mother’s dark cloak,

draped o’er the earth in a hushed fan of cloth,

for she mourns every night for the loss of her sun,

distraught with the fear that he might not return.

The cold winter nights still her breath to a hum,

a call to her child, a summons to morn’

as diamonds in velvet, a mother’s dark cloak,

drape o’er the earth in a hushed fan of cloth.

The nights grow long, and the shadows grow cold,

as she lights the way with her precious gems.

Trepidation’s her council in the silence of space,

for she never sees the light her sun holds,

only diamonds in velvet, a mother’s dark cloak.