Night Words

Sitting here alone in front of my maroon curtains, the night sings to me.

I ache to sing back, but I don't know the words.

What's worse, I'm not sure I ever did.

Time comes and goes, and briefly comes again and leaves me nothing to cling to.

I ponder my youth and what I didn't do.

And what I did has left me empty.

If I were to know what to do to bring yesterday back, would I do it?

Or would I leave the things that never mattered,

Embedded in a stone in my heart?

Snowflakes and roses, sunlight and grey shadows pass me by like soft whispers.

I follow to catch them as they wonder by me.

But snow is too cold and thorns too sharp.

Will I ever feel the flowers again and hold forever in my hand?

Or will the night words never return to me?

And the night song words and I will part.