Your words sweet as sugar ran over me, wrapping my whole in warmth,
sweet as the song of an angel at dawn, soft as the eyes of a fawn.
And I knew I was right to believe in you, that we were meant to be,
the tears weren’t in vain, no matter what, we’d triumph again and again.
So sweet were your words, unexpected, unsought, making it all worthwhile,
it could only mean I was right to trust in you for all this time.
...and the hands of the clock kept ticking away relentlessly, mute was the telephone, the world filled with silence as the streets stayed still, the streets that would mark your return. In time the darkness replaced the golden rays as the sun bowed its final farewell making way for deep shadows to cast dark plays of torment and pain over walls. And the silence once peaceful now echoes with voices that taunt and sneer abuse, making a mockery of those words, those words I chose to believe.
In midnightly hours I see a face, with angles rigid and stiff,
lips in a hard line and hooded the eyes, bearings that take and not give.
Yet the voice is familiar, but in the tone I hear duplicity’s groove,
your voice rubs the wounds with the salt of your deeds, it’s you with your mask removed.