(no subject)

[machina_sonata]

An illusion
These things we held
Close to our hearts, dear to us
We scattered them like funeral ashes
Carried by light winds to the sea

You sang a soft song
Though I could not make out the words
And when we parted ways
We never returned

But I wonder
As I grow older, lonelier still
What did those things mean?
Why did we throw them away?

Now I cannot remember
And you are gone
Like the melody, that last memory
Your soft sound lost in the waves

But much like you
I too had words
Ones that I hope you heard
And will one day bring back to me