I suffer a certain sort of death,
With the loss of you and I,
The same as a falling star does,
After shooting across the sky.
Gone in a very short instant,
Disappearing from all view,
Unsure if it was really there,
The way that shadows do.
But the hole thats left behind,
Is infinite or so it seems,
And everything is jumbled,
Just like disturbing dreams.
Surrounded by so many,
Yet, still I'm the only one.
I just wasn't prepared for,
The setting of our sun.