Holding hands, we gaze at the withering moon,
and as we do, we vaguely realize a deep forgotten swoon.
I know what you think and what you're trying to say,
before you do, I'm sorry that I couldn't stay.
And thoughts ran through my mind as a flowing stream of tears;
I know I have to tell, now and forevermore to face my fears.
Instead I run and hide the pain that lies within,
but soon I realized none of us could ever win.
The depression and torment that ran through my soul
had shown me sowing hate has been your only goal.
Maybe our paths have never been ment to cross,
so my heart wouldn't have been hurt as much as it now does.
But, unlike the rest, I know I can be strong,
I'll never be a puppet, but I know where I belong.
As long as I remember, to hold on remains okay,
but does it really mean we'll have to share our way?
Those thoughts still even tell me of days when Love did start,
but sad is still the feeling of broken love and its depart...