I once believed in a man strong, beautiful and kind.  
His voice as familiar as his sense of humor.
He took me to gaze at the moon and on trails to see wild spring flowers.
His eyes green and the curves of his face rounded in the morning light.  

With my heart and life, I trusted him.  He held both in his hands.  
Our love was whole and true, so long ago.  
I feel his touch in dreams, caressing me late into the night and holding me closely.  
Soft jazz reminds me of these moments in time.

How could this love have gone so wrong?
I am caught between my love and my anguish.
Could I have been so blind as not to see the signs?  
How could I not have seen him fading into another, tossing me aside like a bloodied soldier in this war on love.

When did he stop believing in me, between the lies?
When did I stop, between the love and the lies?
Is there nothing real… were we ever one?
He is a stranger without a penitent heart and soul.

Can this ever be made right; friends that part in anger,
the us that will never be again.
My angel has become a nightmare of unfinished endings,
and I, still caught between love and lies.