Summer storms brewed a darkness above our heads,
swelling our egos with the rains of a thousand nights.
The bright lights of the distant city
seemed to breathe in the downpour
as the fire I set in your heart died a cold death.

They say the past generations danced naked
amongst the old stones of the ancients
but you and I stood cold and grave
between the markers of the dead without name.
As lilies floated solemn on a still pond,
the fire you set in my heart died a cold death.

I looked at you and you looked at me,
countless years slipping away in a blink.
All of my hopes extinguished when your gaze lands elsewhere.
Despite all of my longing and wanting,
I still find it difficult to leave this land of dreams,
where the fires we set in each other’s hearts never died a cold death.