Grace At.

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On A Cold November Night

On a cold November night,
I sit alone, with the feather
in my hand as my only friend,
and the silence as my only salvation.

With the gloomy light of the candle,
that waves that sea of silence.
Sea so deep and mysterious,
sea of lonelines and despair.

Oh the havoc!
And the rain!

On this rainy November night,
I sit alone,
I sit and think about you.

You that consumed my mind.
You that consumed my heart and my soul.

The one I once saw
in my pitiful dreams,
dreams of pain and sorrow.
Dreams I so desperately
tend to forget.

And my hand,
increasingly shaking from the ruthless cold,
I suddenly fall to sleep.
Hopefully I'll dream of you,
and not those nightmares that
hunt me every time I lay my head
on the pillow.

I miss you, even though I never had you.
I want you, even though I never held you.

The only two words you gave me, I'll keep forever.
You keep my heart and my soul,
while I'm slowly dying in the efface
of this cold, November night.

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