Stranded in a thousand passionate hearts
Her soul shone brighter than the Northern star
Lost were the hours
Awkwardly spent on teary eyed
misfortunes
A hundred times or more, I lost sight of her
Only to find her once again
When the festival of occasions came
There was no grand parade, nor poetic words
Just the rubble and ashes collecting amidst the ground
Turning streets into funeral pyres
When she was gone, I truly found her
Once more in my thoughts
Within the bohemian tragedy of memory
Now she fades quicker than the rays of light
Over a clouded and immaculate horizon
When word came of her passing
Comforting tears embedded a grave yet to come
Now, that I think about it, lingering for a final time
Around the recesses of ancient turmoil and bitter envy
The storm resides and passes, realization peeks through
The burdening sky, when finding…
Her love was what made her immortal
Once a year, when the shop displays
Are covered in linen of gold and red
When merry voices echo down
The cobble streets, streetlights
Make Halos of the night, illuminating
the shadows made by souls reflecting
out into the evening
I stop, and give thanks for the heavens
providing cause for this festival of friends,
Where loneliness is a distant nightmare
And bohemian dreams give nostalgic
Thought sifting and drifting towards you
It is during the season of giving
That I give eternal thanks to you
For giving light from the heavens
Showing a path for this youthful heart
