Into the nights watch I drift away.
Today has been a curse but I pray tomorrow a blessing.
My mind wanders, imagining an angel from my past.
An angel who seems to be the ghost of my present.
The more perfect they are the worse that they haunt you,
And she might have well been Casper breathing down my neck.
A memory when I wake. A memory before I dream.
A constant reminder of what could have been.
A'las I wake, deep in a sweat of discomfort and realize,
That it cannot, will not, ever, be.