She was close, very close
Closer than his own sleep
The golden sunshine that spilled,
emerged from his tethered soul
Those tears that always found a smile,
Now is closer to him than her.
This tender line of illuminated darkness,
weaves the wreckage inside him.
He still wears her love inside,
And she found her love tell a long story.
Few inks that he left for her,
bloated on his cry and her fear.
She lost the nights she dreamt in,
and he founds these nights,
Without her dreams and his symphony.
What he lost never found a home,
The home closer than his tears.