Every Passing Day

Lovely flowers grow at the touch of her fingers,
On the roses, on the thorns, my poison lingers.
Falling slowly, forgetting what I've done,
Bringing a bouquet of poison, making the tears run.

A slumber of pain and undeniable suffering,
Nightmare where words aren't heard and no one sings.
Fear arises as she starts refusing to trust,
Her hope shatters as her heart begins to turn into dust.

Tears roll out as she starts to awake,
Still waiting by her side she thinks that this was all fake.
No other words, she just turns and walks away,
Slowly fading as he is forgotten, more and more with each and every passing day.