Under the crimson moonlight I see,
A smile on your face, unbound and free.

I held your hand under the maple tree,
And I got down on my knee...

I humbly asked you "will you be my key?"
You smiled and said "we were meant to be."

With a sudden blackout I found myself in a void sea...
I was bewildered into reality...

As I wake up the ceiling is what I see...
And I realized my dreams were mocking me...

I used to write poetry only for the
fame.
It was nothing more to me, then mere child's game.

As I grew up, I wanted something to blame,
So I wrote my poetry with saddened flames.

My heart got broken, so I wrote for a claim,
But I didnt had it in me to write the
same.

But then I met you and I setted my
aim
So im writing this poetry  in your
name...