To describe it in words not yet spoken. To represent it in a fashionable token.
Feeling it fiercely within, one ends for another to begin.

Its far and wide, and never out of sight. To one's shadow, it is the light. To marvel at all its glory, one's pain is their own story.

Weakness betrayed, and bonds decayed. To quicken their calling, no longer delayed.
Sorrows foundation, all of its woes. Longest of journeys, friends to foes.

Lasting memories soon reminisced. Those are the strongest, those are the best.
Lifelong partners for all to behold. An enchanting ending for all to be told.

From a lustrous temptation and all of its worth. To an ineffable sensation and the miraculous birth.
Crossing over from a life so divine. Passing as well from a heart with no sign.

Billions have said it, and millions will soon. Compared it to beaches, and even the moon.
Written in songs, poems, and even a letter. Billions have said it, how do I say it better?

An ode to nightmares for numbing the terrible.  Without you, my mind might in fact take strife with such a reality.  In comparisons to horror, you reign supreme and allow my eyes to reap the beauty, what little left this world has to offer.  It seems I am in your debt.  And I dare not wish to cast you away; to leave you as a derelict carcass from a plump vulture who's had his fill.  Nay, keep this madness flowing as full as the Nile.  Keep me submerged in your insanity, for without, I fear I might succumb to such a condition...

It started one by one.  Now... ten by ten.  And soon, a hundred per gust.  A common sight that still holds much amazement.  The aroma conjures up an overwhelming sense of nostalgia.  Each crackling step through the leaves is like a glimpse into the past.  It's ironic how beautiful it is... when they're dying.  But their death does not go unnoticed.  The spectrum shifts as day fades, and the cold howl of the wind chills you to the core...  From Beauty to Banshee...

An eternity has passed since then. Or at least that's what my mind tells me it feels like. Staring at this slab, remains proof to the contrary. She's gone... They all are. Everywhere you go, you see them, hardback versions of their death certificate. Lined up and prepared to conjure up reserved memories for those relevant enough to have them. But this plot... This one's different. This one haunts me.

It's a haunt like no other. One that fills me with unbelievable joy, but leaves me with overwhelming sorrow. When I dream... She's there. We're together again, we're happy, but we know it's among our last chances to spend with one another. A smile and a nod of understanding are the last images burnt into my head before she fades away in my waking moments. Each time potentially saying our last goodbye...

To me, these aren't just dreams. I know I'm dreaming, she knows she's gone, and we both know what this is...

I wake up to a seemingly swollen throat, drowning eyes, and choking on silence. Joyous and melancholy, it's no wonder why they sound the same, its my morning mourning...