Jun 2013
The skies seem grayer.
and the nights are colder.
Memories of sweet kisses,
are like ash upon my lips.
No warmth remains,
just bitter reminders,
of a fire that once burned.
and the nights are colder.
Memories of sweet kisses,
are like ash upon my lips.
No warmth remains,
just bitter reminders,
of a fire that once burned.
