When we are asunder,
I speak so cautiosly,
Using the sweetest of elegies.

Pondering out fate,
My eyes do turn crimson,
Oh, just a touch of red.

Feelings of yesteryear,
Those are so melancholy,
Though I shall not regret.

Bloom like the amaranth,
Unto thy world, radiate,
Unlike my dissonance.

Here I am so desolate,
Still out of reach,
Flailing to bring you near.

Waiting for catastrophe,
Fate deals the dirty cards,
A false sense of security.

A consolation prize,
My only posession.
The rest, out of reach.

Cruel indignities,
I'm ostracized from us,
Now it's only you and I.

Sweet sounds into my ear,
Oh, it gives me hope,
The words you speak.

The banality of it all,
To love than lose,
Only to regain.