Dark moist pupils staring at loving eyes
Compelling soft little hands to pass over...

I see blue sky's...
I see green grass...

A heavy wind blows past my ear
A friendly swish of laughter I hear...

Writing about her who is me,
has always been a cloudy mystery...

Sitting, talking
Clock tick tocking...

Never did he tell me,
that life would be this way...

New to my heart
A magical disease...

She sat her withered self beside his chair,
tenderly held his wrinkled hand in hers...

Crack...
goes my pen...

Falling leaves bluring
Against coruscating rays...

Who...?
Who...

Window sill of my life ahead
Drawn upon black parchment...