As the world slows to a silent beat,
Grass curls around our feet.
Bitten lips and skin speckled with dew,
The doubt we feel is nothing new.
The midnight air feels heavy and deep,
Delivering promises we know we’ll never keep.
We've been here before, although it’s been ages,
We were busy writing stories and filling our pages.
But now we’re back to where we were before,
An unanswered question, an unopened door.
We journeyed other places,
We befriended different faces.
Our mistakes were unrelated,
While possibility stayed and waited.
Summer nights can enliven the darkest of days,
Your steady hand and solid gaze.
All I can feel is the fear that sticks,
In the heart that I tried to, but could not fix.
Where this leaves us, I do not know,
One day these old thoughts will be down, far below.
But for now we’ll stand here, together but alone,
As possibility becomes an unsteppable stone.
And the grass will forever curl around our feet,
As the world slows to a silent beat.