18

In the soft moments of reprise
as I rummage through your things,
there is a faint sense of longing,
that brings me to my knees.
In the quiet unspokeness,
of all I thought I knew,
there is a sweetness that lingers,
of the joy I found in you.
as I touch the torn papers,
and read between the lines,
my tears release in sweet regret,
for the love I failed to do.
the winter is upon us
and though the dark days hold in fear,
I am no longer held captive by my love for you,
nor inside the dream I bid adieu.

photo copywright: http://www.liveinternet.ru/community/your_heaven/post130564346/