Dear, sweet love of mine,

when did I leave the thought

of our true love behind?

Did I measure your words on a scale

to have and to hold above all else?

What cherished moments to save?

Have we thrown our love, our dreams away?

Withered down like Roses, thorns that sting.

 The dance once flowed with ease and sway.

Now bones and ashes all that remain 

rattling in closets behind closed doors 

a dream once beautiful, now insane.

Was it real? Was it a dream? 

Was it all a movie scene?

Behind my eyes the screen.