In (the soft light just before sunrise or after sunset)'s hush, where shadows dance and play,
A sad story of love's (rotted, inferior, or ruined state),
A long sad poem, born of emotional pain and upset (feelings),
The wind whispers secrets, of a love that's lost,
A painful memory, that will not be brag,
The pain of wishing, the sting of regret,
A sad story, that will not be forgot.
The stars above, they twinkle and shine,
But bring no comfort, to this heart of mine,
For in their light, I see only feelings that there is no hope,
A badly wanting love, that's beyond repair.
The moon, a silver crescent in the sky,
A guiding light of hope, that catches the eye,
But hope, it seems, is only a short-lived thing,
A mirage, that disappears, like a dream.
The trees, they sway, in the gentle breeze,
Their leaves, a rustling whisper, of what could be,
But the truth, it seems, is far from sweet,
A long sad poem, that cannot be beat.
The river flows, with a sad tide,
A reflection of the sadness, inside,
The water's edge, a place to lay my head,
But even here, I find no comfort, instead.
The world, it seems, is only a stage,
A player in the drama, of love's page,
And I, only a little person who was watching, lost in thought,
A long sad poem, that I cannot bring to an end.