I'm trying to figure, when did the first smile die on you face and
I'm sorry that I missed it.

I wonder when does the last do the same or did it already go; how long from that till your heart grows cold and we are both alone.

Even then I hope that under the cold ash does something still ember and we can blow them to a new fire.

Should that fire start it would brighten the days in front and keep us warm in the days of dark.