Why does it seem that the passion of summer has faded

Into the coolness of fall, everything's dying

My heart once full, seems empty

While my fingers are slipping

Trying to recall the touch of your skin

Each day seems longer than the last

Tears unshed, lie waiting

For it all to end

The flames are dying

No kindle to reignite

The passion

Only met with indifference

I keep struggling

Trying to find the words

While my soul, weary, is escaping

Leaving the husk of what I used to be

Within your embrace

Questions burning

Old scars become new wounds

Bleeding

As am I still bound to

Love you

Penned by my hand on the 19th of Lupar, in the year 371 AF.