We ambled along separate paths,
Unaware, that they'd merge into one.
Just as it happened.
Smiles become doleful,
Heads were pulled down by anchors.
Your pace quickens as you continue,
But I stay feeble and stand still.
As the bleached clouds in my eyes,
Begin to cascade.
And memories flood my monochromatic sky.
Right here,
By the withering rose bush,
Was were the lighting first struck,
Lips connected,
Igniting a brass flame.
But in April,
All it did was rain.
