The last petal of the rose I had forgotten about,
blew in front of my face today and started to crumble.
The sands of time have slipped through the cracks of the hourglass,
and nothing can be said to take it all back.
I still remember the last words spoken;
Words of spite, words of love, words never said before.
Now they lie in the air, like a fog that will never recede.
How does it feel to know?
That you are nothing more but a skeleton stashed away.
Into the deepest depths of my mind.
Yet, once in a while, you come clawing back for air.
I can't seem to forget your face.
No matter what was said, or what will be said.
We can never turn back time.
Our past will remain as memories.
As the rose of our past life dies.