We knew love together hand in hand.
Memories are still living.
With are walks apon the sand.

Seashells in a old wooden box.
The oceans spray.
A vanishing form down by the old
docks.

A bottle without a message
comes in with the tide.
Try as I must this pain
I cannot hide.

That old lighthouse stands as
strong as should I.
The tide changes yet never does die.