I walk alone at night, when everyone is sleeping. When the city is asleep, I live, I live in my head. Walking alone at night reminds me of the good times. I reminds me of the time when men were kind, their voices were soft, and their words were inviting. A time, in short, when I was accepted. It reminds me of the dreams I dreamt in my youth. I had dreamed that love would never die, that together, we'd make it. I dreamed that I would be forgiven, forgiven of everything. I remember that time, when life was worth living, and hope was high. There was a time when I'd do anything, and perhaps that was my downfall. Life was once a time, when love was blind and life was a song. A wondrous song, a joyful song, it was exciting. Then it went wrong.
The tigers came, and tore every dream to pieces, broke every hope, broke us. She was my one and only, the one I loved, and they took her from me. I dream of her coming back, in the streets where I walk alone, but some dreams simply can't be. There are storms that people simply can't weather. I had dreamed my life so differently, but life has killed the dream I dreamed.
When I walk alone at night, I think of her, and I am happy. I imagine she's walking next to me, forgiving all of my wrong doings, and we walk and talk until morning. I know it's all in my head. I know she's gone and won't come back. I know it, don't doubt it, but at night, she's with me. I love her. Alas, night must end in morning, and come the morning, she is gone.