He is more wonderful than the sunrise I believe,
he doesn’t set after he throws his light.
He stays till midnight when the moon comes to admire the night.
A warm hug in the winter afternoon,
knitted blanket layered in the bed of my room.
Covering me whenever I get cold,
I am comfortable and pleased even when he is gone.
Heaven is still there, the angel got no abode,
it’s a man who wakes me up,
whenever sorrow makes his home.
I don’t want him to disappear, he is my escape,
where would I go when he had left no space.