Once the flame burned so hot,
as if it came from the sun,
Forget me not,
The last flower petal will soon fall,
Look what life has done,
There is no love for me at all.
Now the old flame has turned into a dying ember.
A love long lost and forgot,cold in December,
The flame no longer burns,as it starts to winter chill,
The heart no longer yearns ,the world no longer turns,
life seems to stand still.
Waiting is not with excitement,for what looms tomorrow,
Are now bad dreams of coming sorrow.
The seeds I sow,Those weeds will grow,
Nothing is left of hapiness,
I no longer live,I only exist.
I'm only a dead flame,
Washed out by the rain,
Will I ever burn again?
Am I to resolve to be only ashes to ashes,
dust to dust?
Is this the end of love and us?
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