the morning was colder, silent
the most quiet i remember

she had been the heartbeat
that brought a room warmth

our steps were now dark
filled in reminiscing, melancholy rhythms

her face watched from the walls still
perfume permeated into tears

where was this place, that felt like a
long sigh of remorse and regret

the what should have beens',
what we could have dones'

what needed to be said
still without a shape

where could fate take us from now
fleeting from our very eyes

the implication held in her absence
there was no lie to be found

this morning, even if we begged
time wouldn't be put on the shelf

not for an hour, not for two
would time give us a passing glance

fate never clasped to pity nor sorrow
she simply swept by those time paralyzed

and we were blaming everything
that could possibly hold weight

the night that lasted too long
the dawn that rose too late

*the silence that had enveloped her
before truth took shape