Field of Flowers

Broken melancholic heart,
A cold lonely form,
A crying child.
The once warm embrace is gone,
Replaced with a cold emptiness,
That cannot be undone.
No longer does the faraway light shine.
Gone, the darkness takes its place.
Will the memories fade?
Will what was left behind turn to dust?
Your voice has rusted away,
A lost fragment of time,
Scatters upon the wind.
Where is it that you are?
What shall happen next?
Silent prayers,
A childish wish.
Pieces of a time long gone,
Gather for one last time.
A hope for tomorrow,
A distant dream.
Gone are the days of innocence,
The moments of childish curiosity,
Of wonder and joy.
Only the memories remain,
Of those precious days.
Broken melancholic heart,
A cold lonely form,
A crying child.
Will the memories fade?
Will what was left behind turn to dust?
What will remain of the you of yesterday?
Flowers bloom and wilt,
Their remains scatter upon the earth and wind.
A remnant of color, the petals dance upon the breeze.
Your voice has rusted away,
Your face is slowly fading,
Lost fragments of time,
That I desperately hold onto.
An elegy, a quiet requiem,
A gentle breeze, warm sunlight.
The once warm embrace is gone,
Replaced with a cold emptiness,
That cannot be undone.
No longer does the faraway light shine.
Gone, the darkness takes its place.
Where is it that you are?
What shall happen next?
Silent prayers,
A childish wish.
Pieces of a time long gone,
Gather for one last time.
A hope for tomorrow,
A distant dream.
Broken melancholic heart,
A cold lonely form,
A crying child.
Gone are the days of innocence,
The moments of childish curiosity,
Of wonder and joy.
Only the memories remain,
Of those precious days.
If only time could turn back,
If only.
Repeating, chanting,
A spell, a wish.
The once warm embrace is gone,
Replaced with a cold emptiness,
That cannot be undone.
Bent and broken,
Rusted and scarred.
The machines of war,
Lay scattered upon the lone field.
The scent of flames,
Of warm and unfeeling things.
The sound of distant whispers,
Of the weeping earth.
What will remain of the you of yesterday?
Flowers bloom and wilt,
Their remains scatter upon the earth and wind.
A remnant of color, the petals dance upon the breeze.
Your voice has rusted away,
Your face is slowly fading,
Lost fragments of time,
That I desperately hold onto.
An elegy, a quiet requiem,
A gentle breeze, warm sunlight.
Silent prayers,
A childish wish.
Pieces of a time long gone,
Gather for one last time.
A hope for tomorrow,
A distant dream.
Only the memories remain,
Of those precious days.
Broken melancholic heart,
A cold lonely form,
An aching soul is crying.
The fragments break and scatter,
Upon the wind.
Will the memories fade?
Will what was left behind turn to dust?
What will remain of the you of yesterday?
If only time could turn back,
If only.
Repeating, chanting,
A spell, a wish.
If only…
Broken melancholic heart,
A cold lonely form,
The crying child,
The aching weeping soul is here.
Waiting for you,
Silently praying,
Wishing…
A hope for tomorrow,
A distant dream.
Bent and broken,
Rusted and scarred.
The machines of war,
Lay scattered upon the lone field.
Overgrown by flowers,
Colorfully dancing in the wind.
Though the once warm embrace is gone,
Those distant days of innocence.
This broken melancholic heart,
All alone within a field of flowers,
Is still waiting for you;