She is forever lost in gray,
So sad a waste it might become,
To see her spend these fading days,
As one who never found the Sun.
A Sun of hope, of light and love,
Filled with truth instead of lies.
Not bound by those who float above,
Just here on Earth by those who try.
But she is blind to what remained,
And in the wake of such a haze,
She puts to sleep what good had came,
Then says a prayer and leaves a grave.
No chance for right, just chance for wrong,
But does she care? She says she does,
Yet still I hear her troubled song.
Each word is sung and just because.
No worth in this would others buy,
So few are those who really care.
But one does care and he still flies,
Though his love will she never bare.
So sad a waste it might become,
If in these fading days,
She never claims what she has won,
And is forver lost in gray.
