Dead Passion 

The stream has ganged dryness;

Sweet daffodils are wliting.

There's no more sweet aroma;

Yellow butterflies are flapping away.

Tender music streams, that used to flow

and have us lost in a slow dance,

has descended to silence.

This place was never ment to be,

So let us part without a tear.

I still remeber for the first time,

our discovery of this place,

O passion invinsible it rendered,

but time aged and paged

all we grew fond of.

The strong gale lies in faded climes,

and all the dust lies dead.

This pace will never come to life again,

let us wave goodbye and avert...

My sunlights were spent in troubled introspection,

seeking to find a cure for passions death,

But a vivid realization knocked me;

unlike a rose, in spring blossoms again;

When love is shattered,

even the viened air declines to darkness.

and to pine on it's sweet memories

mockes only the heart.

Now, let go of my hand my love!

What we once had, will never be again...