On days like this, when memory is not farfrom the surface,I am grateful for the time I hadWith you.

If I could danceI’d be a butterfly,Flitting from flower to flower.

What became of Freedom who called himself my Own?Now I sit here in chainsshackled to the floor.

I will comfort youLeaving the rest of the world behindUntil dawn turns into dayAnd the fire’s embers fadeInto a nothingness