Oh, the years have come and gone
as petals of a delicate flower.
All that is left to remain alone
is a marble statue in fading hour.

What laughs we did partake!
What love we once had felt!
Before we called it all Mistake
and praying new cards be dealt.

How easy it is to lose ourselves
within the darkness of our pain.
We curse all those into some hell
when better judgment cannot refrain.

Oh, the years have disappeared
and whisper a lullaby called "True"
Those lyrics I cannot quite revere
for they remind me of simply you.

The final hours are drawing ever nigh.
Weathered photographs hug my hand.
I wish that I could whisper one goodbye
before I become a statue on the land.

©June 18, 2008 Lori S. Maynard