Amber Eyes
Crimson lips of lovers past,
the crystal tears of time,
the poet less a bitter word,
has written his last rhyme.
Your amber eyes of yesterday,
are what lead me to tomorrow.
The tangled webs of what we
had,
are guilded with my sorrow.
Why does life have to die?
The poet writes his song,
and bleeding at the thought of
death,
his memory passes on.
And do I dare dream of
whispers to you?
across your ebony sea,
but more than that, do I dare
to ask,
do you think of me?
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