The color gray has been offered as tribute
the pain of age is not a mark that cares to hide
but within my grasp, change, acceptance
as only a weathered stone would know
standing firm as a relic of the past
stubborn as an eye that loves beauty
solemn as a view from the summit
hard as love that lost its chance, but
waiting for the glowing *** to boil again
every morning I become remembrance
walking slowly on distant shores
because regret is already late
there are no broken mirrors
or paintings of jagged edged emotion
of the time you were my friend
we both know how we once felt
but is it now to live for something new
or for someone who believes in fate
I am a bridge you crossed, lagging behind
the fire you see in the distance is my torch
the moon that once guided us cannot walk straight
there is no more broken glass under our feet
only the sound of a ring falling onto the floor
there are no songs about what was lost
only the wind blowing memories to safe harbors
yet you said maybe
yet you said what could be
is me
but if what is to be
is what is never again
and what once was
will only last forever in gray hue
and tiny lines traced upon our faces
then the final truth is that I loved you
and I knew
that what was inside of you
was what was inside of me