Young lovers gazing
whisper softly to the breeze...

Our eyes first met
across a peaceful landscape...

The silence was darker than midnight,
as the hands of the clock...

I cannot deny how much it hurts
to know you doubted my love...

The past is something that
will never become the present...

Sitting on the edge of leaving-
contemplating goodbye...

Bravery sits upon my mask
And hides away the pain...

My stolen comforts nest
immaculately upon his dusty shelf...

A life without romance
was almost believable...

Desperately yearning
for this unending...

I may appear silent to you,
like my voice ran away with the wind...

Trees cry
as secret memories...