Desolate

The pillow is cold, my eyes filled with dew; Alone with regrets of me and of you. The chair, the desk, the picture that's framed Leave me no relief; They scream out your name. The razor you left, the shirt you forgot, I cling close to me, reminiscing the lot. All the while, you've been here, a ghost of my mind, A phantom of love, I can't leave behind. The days shall pass, the nights long and cold, My mind in distress of passions untold. Away with your dreams, soar straight to blue skies; Ne'er shall you fall, yet our love slowly dies.