Your presence, pure poetry.
Warmed me on cold nights.
I couldn't touch you,
But i saw your reflection in my mind,
I need you my company.

Your body, my stanza.
Each beginning, i wish for the end.
In a perfect structure,
A fairy tale within me.

Lying here on my couch,
In every verse, every line,
You were the best company of mine.
In every peace, a peace of you i'll find.

But you're gone.

Gone like ink on paper in the rain.
An unfinished book. An adapted story.
And no matter how hard I try,
No melody make you be, no image make me see you!
In the dark corner of my mind you inside.
A crumpled sheet of paper, in an empty drawer inside.

Where are you now?

Where did the rhymes go?
A sonet with no want to play.

Forgotten in a corner, abandoned.
We are lost for a while.
In the hope that passionate poets,
Can give life to this invented love.
But life only imitates art, when art is alive.
And we stuck in the past.

Was this the end I myself created for you?

Lying here on my couch.
In every verse, every line,
You were the best company of mine.
In every peace, a peace of you i'll find.

But you gone of my couch and finish at the line.
You were best company of mine.
In every peace, a peace of you i'll find.

But you're gone.
Gone like ink on paper in the rain.
An unfinished book. An adapted story.
And don't matter had I try
No melody make you be, no image make me see you.
In the dark corner of my mind you inside.
A crumpled sheet of paper, in an empty drawer inside.
And don't matter had I try.

Where are you now?
Or don't matter's go.
A sonet with no want to play.
An unfinished book. An adapted story.
And no matter how hard I try.
No melody can make you be, no image can make me see you!
In the dark corner of my mind you inside.
A crumpled sheet of paper, abandoned.
We are lost for a while.
In the hope that passionate poets, Of life, can stop this invented love.
But life only imitates art, when the art is alive.

Was this the end I myself created for you?