Everything about her is a song,
              Her breathe, my music,
              Her laugh, my melody,
              Her heart, I missed.
She is a symphony, a beautiful one,
             But not without the beat,
             Not without her heartbeat,
             This song will never be complete.
Love shook her hard to ground,
             Broke her heart to pieces,
             Tried to pick it up,
             She shove me away.
It seems to her that everything was wrong,
             Shut herself from the world,
             Feared to love,
             Afraid to get hurt.
So she remains an unfinished symphony,
             With her breathe as music,
             Laughters as melody,
             Heart beat, forgotten.