Winter of my bliss, cut short by folly of woe
Alone I stand in the pallour of the moon
For she has gone
And to me comes blighted flame
For her I would have sundered worlds
But she casts her love, on a meaningless shell
A waste of wasted life
And to me comes blighted flame
Reflecting skin, mirrored pool, empty, shallow
Showing what you wish to see
Dispelling into a stone's throw
My wings unfurled, I take to the sky
Wounds drip from my soul, that I had almost given
Cindered in the cold fires of ache
Interred in the ashes of regret, I await her return
And to me comes blighted flame.