A field of flowers, As the summer sprung, Your smile showers, My cold heart had rung, The melody your voice gives, A smile that's worthwhile to see, As your warmth leaves, Tears falling unknowingly. I asked her, "when will we meet again?", She replied, "in the shadows embrace", My heart aches in pain, By your last goodbye in grace, "How could the wind blow you away?" I asked in longing, hoping, begging, "It's been my time, my love, I cannot stay" She said in such warmth, yet—she's tearing. Should I apologize? Should I let go? Must I wait for her knowing she won't come back? Should I wish for Gods or even demons to make time slow? What is it that I truly lack? "It should've been me in the first place", I said in the yearning of acceptance, "This is no game or race!" She said, as if giving me a chance? But, of all the chances I would've held, It would be praying for you, Hoping you wouldn't yield, To the crows visit, full of rue, From the windowsill as it awaits, I beg of you, take ahold of your place, Don't reach out for its temptations as if it's faits, I promise you, please stay, with our strong enlace.