Lost

She reaches far into my chest And pulls out a handful of emptiness Our embrace, enough to drive a master lockpick to madness Both our hearts, pounding rock hard Hard enough to shake leaves from the tallest, wisest tree She has hair like wild lava Eyelids of a butterfly's wing Petals of rose dance in her cheek Lips lush as fresh blood born of the finest sabre Her lobes are the very first droplets of morning dew And her voice, one hundred children running through a hilly field Laughing and falling and falling and laughing I am a harrowing tradgedy I have lost her Now I must wake everyday, until I meet the end of time The sunset took her hand held high She slipped from my arms, while the lockpick laughed menacingly My eyes conquered by a salty ocean Burning like a lick of the sun All colour left everything my vision falls upon All I see now are black rainbows and grey sunsets With her, she took spring and summer A bird's songbook and scents of eucalyptus woven on warm breezes I live every hour at the beginning of fall In the middle of long graveyard-cold winters And ending only when fall wakes again