Lost In Two Worlds

-lost in two worlds- On a dead log way laying the crescent ox-bow Illuminated by the pink sun of a drowning Sunday They used to sit there on the fresh log And watch the sun drift into the peaceful night She would lay her head on her shoulder He would smell her dark hair and breathe and smile She would close her eyes and listen to the air he exuded Warm and calm and lovely Their hearts would say all the sweet words they were used to They would sit there and wish for the night to never end Lost in this blissful world of young love. They sit there on the dead log waylaying the crescent bore Scorched by the pink sun of a plummeting Sunday She places her head on his uncomfortable shoulder The air around him seeming to choke his soar throat She closes her eyes to squeeze a flow of warm painful tears He ponders over the days they would miss after tomorrow While she trusts her heart to have that feeling for him for ever He would wish that destiny should change its mind; that he wouldn't have to go She would be lost without him, but he has to go, away from her, get lost in the world, Without their love to guide them.