Flower petals scatter, each time the winds comes past.
Your reflection on the water, is like a mirror.
Yet an illusion, a dream of my mind.
The broken frames of towers and cities past.
Ruins resting upon the blue waters, covered by a blanket of green and bloom.
A memory of the illusion, the passing wind.
The wilted flower.
Upon the rusted tracks, in the shallow water lapping at my ankles.
I walk as if in a dream, as I watch the clouds.
Passing by, with the wind.
The flowers we grew are floating.
Reflected upon the mirror like water.
Is like a dream, a fading memory.
Like scattering petals.
Upon the blue water, all is reflected.
Even me.
The you who was here, is gone.
Your reflection, is an illusion now.
Flower petals scatter, each time the winds comes past.
Like them my memories of you are fading away.
Piece by piece, bit by bit.
Like a flower.
The water lapping at my feet, is the mirror.
That showed us the illusion, a dream of our minds.
Walking upon the tracks, along the ruins.
Covered in green and bloom.
Reflected upon the blue water.
The passing clouds, the flower petals in the wind.
A dream, a memory.
You are here and not here.
Resting upon the blue waters, among the flowers.
I am here and not here.
Walking in a dream, as if in a dream.
A memory of the illusion, the passing wind.
The floating flowers, scatter.
My reflection on the water, is like a mirror.
Yet an illusion, a dream of your mind.
Of mine, of ours.
The flower petals scatter, each time the winds comes past.
Then rest upon the blue waters, beneath the clouds.
