his eyes were smaller than i recall
though still the colour of the first autum leaf's fall
being neither really brown, green or grey
perhaps if you could colour the word distant or frey
it was noted how he remembered more good than bad, than i
every conflicted night, smallest arguement and really hard fight,
etched into my mind's eye
its harder to hate than to love, and im tired of the fruitless fight
cant love any longer from here, and ive really no right
my essence is empty, my heart still bleeding on his icy floor
in a maze, in a haze, in a daze frantically i search for an exit door