and beauty grown old too soon
under your beholden eye,
it is youth, drained too fast
that leaves pale shaped adults
to try and explain
why we burned so bright hot
instantly fading out from recognized need
blackhole remains left
to remind you of me since nothing else does
sweet voices don't work anymore
grown gravel after the mad rush of it all,
and it is done?
it is done.
re-reading whispers to understand better
i plucked stars for you... but you took the moon