Lost In Two Worlds
-lost in two worlds-
On a dead log way laying the crescent ox-bow
Illuminated by the pink sun of a drowning Sunday
They used to sit there on the fresh log
And watch the sun drift into the peaceful night
She would lay her head on her shoulder
He would smell her dark hair and breathe and smile
She would close her eyes and listen to the air he exuded
Warm and calm and lovely
Their hearts would say all the sweet words they were used to
They would sit there and wish for the night to never end
Lost in this blissful world of young love.
They sit there on the dead log waylaying the crescent bore
Scorched by the pink sun of a plummeting Sunday
She places her head on his uncomfortable shoulder
The air around him seeming to choke his soar throat
She closes her eyes to squeeze a flow of warm painful tears
He ponders over the days they would miss after tomorrow
While she trusts her heart to have that feeling for him for ever
He would wish that destiny should change its mind; that he wouldn't have to go
She would be lost without him, but he has to go, away from her, get lost in the world,
Without their love to guide them.
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