I was the moon.Unnoticed.Invisible.Lonely.Then he came along.He let me shine.Made me feel like I finally belonged."Was he the sun?" You askedNo.He was the darkness.
I was there when he broke you.I was there when you needed me.I was always there.But you chose Him.You chose him every single time.Where were you?Where were you when I was on my knees begging for you to stay?Where were you when I needed you the most?Where were you when I was terrified of going back there?Oh right. I remember...You stood by and watched.You watched me shatter into a billion pieces.And you were laughing.And you were flirting.With Him.Him
I never felt at home anywhereSo I kept lookingI went from place to place,But it never felt rightUntil I met youAnd I realized,Home wasn't a placeHome was a personAnd that person was you
Here I am again3 amI can't sleepI'm craving your touchBut you're not hereYou never wereAnd as I lay here, wishing you were hereI realizeWhen you finally touch me, I won't be able to live without youAnd that scares me
The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing,The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying,And the YearOn the earth her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead,Is lying.Come, Months, come away,From November to May,In your saddest array;Follow the bierOf the dead cold Year,And like dim shadows watch by her sepulchre.The chill rain is falling, the nipped worm is crawling,The rivers are swelling, the thunder is knellingFor the Year;The blithe swallows are flown, and the lizards each gone
Now I knew I lost her --Not that she was gone --But Remoteness travelledOn her Face and Tongue.Alien, though adjoiningAs a Foreign Race --Traversed she though pausingLatitudeless Place.Elements Unaltered --Universe the sameBut Love's transmigration --Somehow this had come --Henceforth to rememberNature took the DayI had paid so much for --His is Penury
When reeds are dead and a straw to thatch the marshes,And feathered pampas-grass rides into the windLike aged warriors westward, tragic, thinnedOf half their tribe, and over the flattened rushes,Stripped of its secret, open, stark and bleak,Blackens afar the half-forgotten creek,--Then leans on me the weight of the year, and crushesMy heart. I know that Beauty must ail and die,And will be born again,--but ah, to seeBeauty stiffened, staring up at the sky!Oh, Autumn! Autumn!--What is the Spring to me?