Once upon a time,
A petite girl who smelled of pine.
Not so long ago,
was jumpy at her own shadow.
Spent the whole day playing in the meadow.
Had a many with whom she felt like second self,
who would keep all her mischief to themself.

As the time passed,
all her mischieves were a past.
As Went through the growing process,
her friends grew less.

She grew to be a loner,
every corner called her as their owner.
Considered her closed ones as gones,
leaving her with the purposeless dawns.

With her thoughts weighing upon,
she begged for an amusement to clap on.
Negatives filled her head.
She painted her childhood on the empty canvas,
with her blood so red.

You finally found someone who understands you more than I,
so I guess I will be saying my final goodbye.

When the night will dawn,
the departed will be looked on.
With them will be I,
whispering in your ears a spooky lullaby.

I wish the nights never end,
cause our bond needs to be amend.
I will sit right next to you,
all the nights through.

Bite off more than one can chew.
Your nights I will haunt.
Black and blue to flaunt.
We will always be together,
my hand holding tight to your death tether.

Passes to sell, I went out
but no one knew what's a fete 'bout.
Started at 3:30 with ten,
and came back with nine.
Which was not fine.
Wanted all ten to sell out,
but no one knew what's a fete 'bout.

The woe was overpowering,
the mournful silence blaring.
Going round in circles in the labyrinth of sufferin'.
Thinking about a way out was no sin.
Unswerving and swift was the way out.
My existence was a doubt.
Starved for the last breath,
so I planned myself a death.

I thought you were forever.
Not gonna leave whatsoever.
Neither I nor you knew,
that our fate held something new.

Now you are gone faraways,
leaving after all the heaviness that weighs.
At the moment, it's just me, my memories, my loneliness,
and the nights which had you,
but now are sleepless.

I start with my poem,                         
when I am down with jeroboam.      
I'll simply tell of the frame.              
Down the river, the moon, the night with a restricted name.          
As the hour of darkness approaches,                                          
the moonlight encroaches.              
Flopped under the cloudless skies,                                                      
far away an owl cries.                        
I call it a night,
when the extinguished darkness arise.