There is something haunting
  in the leaves
in the colors of autumn
  and in the birth of spring
a ghost of longing
  floating in the warmth
    and comfort of a breeze

love felt but never spoken
  
how I trembled
  just to be near
   how I tremble
    now to remember
what might have been
  such a foolish dream
and the monster still sleeps
  
     still sleeps

      still dreams