Oh...I held to your
hand,
When I was afraid of the
dark,
Frightened to stumble,
lose the grip,
Unsure of the length of the
path...

Too raw to digest,
the intensity of emptiness...
I don't feel you anymore either,
Your hand just threatens to fall,
I accuse the loss of my sight-
-for not seeing your eyes,
For the depth I'm sure will be there to suffice.    

But won't it be marking me easy?
For assuming I'm too much of blind?
For sight I believe isn't watching-
-Its seeing, and I can see the truth to your voice...

By the time I'll be pacing to walk on,
I fear you'll be lagging behind...
But isn't it funny?
It'll be your preference
And I'll be waiting denying.

But weren't choices offered to both?
Wasn't there faith in complying?
Wasn't I there when the silence broke?
Am I ceasing my tears with time?

I'm caressing my skins where you kissed me,
I'm regretting not saying goodbye.