I've held in my hands
Lost pieces of a lark
Over the fire they glinted
Vendetta of a broken heart
Earthly goods have worn them down
Yet they still hold their shine
Ours is not existing yet
Unlike you, it's all mine
Why is this my winter?
Yet you feel summer sun
And I curl in my corner
'Til I can hear you come
The way I feel is worthless

L. ove is a fickle mistress