Something is different, her smile is rare,
What I give to see it upon a face so fair,
She cries at night, she doesn’t know I hear,
I wish I knew what she may fear.
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It festers at me, I know it’s my doing,
Of anyone else, I bring all ruin,
She no longer sleeps through the night,
She leaves the bed to stand outside.
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Fathoms deep in her own head,
I hear her speak softly, her words lessened,
If at all she speaks at first,
I wait upon each God **** word.
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The fire in her eyes has been quenched to me,
The tragic loss to beautiful artistry,
For them I’ve doted upon very cold nights,
A shell of what she was, my own soul I fight.
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We used to walk about the streets,
The empty boulevard and speak of dreams,
We have since stopped, she has no time,
I understand, disturbed she is of this heart of mine.