It all started with a sparkle - bright but tiny,
And, gloated with the applause - dim but shiny,
It washed all the water,
And, seemed to be only fire that mattered,
But, when the clock struck 11,
It left us cold and shattered.
It is nice to see you move on.
It is nice to see you're doing well on your own.
Over this side, it isn't so,
Very well though,
But as the sparkle dies as it gets old,
It hurts to see that you've grown so cold.
The blueprint worked - a masterpiece I made,
In a sheet of colorful nonsense, tales I said,
And, even though some days you cried,
To sorrow induced or at least I tried,
It rained, and sometimes the rainbows retained -
The essence of joy embedded -
And, slowly, very-so-slowly - the sorrow slowly grayed.
Won't you ever look back at me? Even if just a second more?
Won't you ever look back at me and smile as you did before?
It is nice though - you have understood the cipher,
That, beneath utter hopelessness -
I had to lock the door in a hope to clear the mess.
Maybe, we will resume from where we first started.
And, maybe, in our case,
It won't be as bitter as it is departed.
Take care.
