We are linked with the hope of yesterday.
Like hearing noises filled with decay.
I still embraced us, only to find us in dismay.
Why must your trust be always in display?

Having enough of you is all I wanted.
But created only you wanting more of what lasted.

As the twilight sets in, I only see what's ahead.
Lines breaking, thoughts wrecking, grieve pressing.
You, and only you should know that you are missing.

I may not be for you, but in time you will see.
that an Impostor will steal from what you guarantee.

Should you find this, I hope that the ink filled in this page reaches you in time.
Like a light giving brightness to the unsure tomorrow.
Know that you will be fine.