Once, in my youth,
I would dance with a boy
Who smelled of dreams
And was made of smoke.
We would spin in the meadows
And take a dip in the shallows,
Share stories by moonlight,
And sleep under starlights.
Now, i know not
the smell of dreams,
And he is gone,
like the smoke he is.
¤
Once, in my youth,
I spoke with a girl
In the language of hope
And with the gesture of faith
We would sing about flowers
And princesses in their towers,
Watch every sunrise,
With a glint in our eyes.
Now, the girl is gone;
I waited in the shadows
While she stood
And taken by the gallows.
