Setting Sun
Of the secrets and lies
And memories of
Her smile, and the sun
Reflected in her eyes
Once they had the world
Held it in their hands:
Taken for granted, lost
Never to return
He never sees summer the same way.
Of the dark-haired man
Lurking in shadows
Past deeds imprinted
On his mind forever
Regret, engrained on his arm
She left, and she died
All his fault.
Of the beautiful girl
Who never fit in
He gave her belonging
They both gained a friend
She gave him a smile
He wore it with pride
Funny how things don't
Work the way they should
And her lifeless body
Pale and ethereal
It ever visits his nightmares
Of the broken and damned
He is embraced by death:
Looking into those eyes
Pretending he can see
Her knowing smirk
Or hear her soft laughter.
(then, he hears her voice
and he is ten years old again;
hand-in-hand they run towards the setting sun)
...because there's only so much one can take of standard deviation...
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