Let this envelope
Represent my heart:
I handed it to you,
And you tore it apart.
Inside was nothing
Though I tried
Nothing was capable
Of bringing you back to my side.
Glossy ink splattered
Like teardrops it fell,
To cool my eyes
After a visit to Hell.
The candle protested
And hid its light
Ignoring the fact
That I was trying to write:
I'm sorry.
Forever,
Sorry.
That's how I'd sign it
If you cared to see:
'Lily, I'm sorry.
Earnestly, Me.'
But the parchment is blank
It's been so for years.
I cannot complete it.
It haunts, and brings fear.
Perhaps you would understand
What I've failed to say
For many a day.
Can you still interpret,
My void lament…?
Your eyes,
Like the parchment,
Are blank, yet pristine.
Gleaming in the still air,
Contained with care,
Smoky and green.
With one look at the paper
Then a thought of your eyes
I can't stop;
I'm starting to cry.
Yet the letter must remain
On my desk,
(Though it brings me pain.)
It lies in peaceful rest…
And I hope you do the same.
