drops of you
like drops of rain
fall unto me
and take away the pain

when did the water

turn this cold

that no inspiration existed

in your heart of gold

that no light brought day

to this endless night

that our daring dreams

have now lost sight

between all the light
and all the sound
something has just
burnt down to the ground
but how could you see
in so much light
how could you hear
the time was never right

Ultimately, no if, why and when really matters. Ifs don't happen, whys don't really have a reason and when is just a sad marker of the time when things were better. What does matter is who you are, what inspires you, where you're seeing yourself go, and sometimes, who really is listening to you.  

a dirge
always at play
as i dream away my day
a dirge, for the night
that is here to forever stay

if not strong
then one must be weak
because surely, nobody
can lie in between
these two words
created
just created
to glance over
the vitality of the small things
that can have their own god
but still receive no humanly affection
or even a pitiful bit of interest

there sits someone so quietly

deep inside my mind

yet to raise his dark heavy head

but i know his eyes are really kind

he feels so right and homely

made of good memories that we mined

that i'm sure he couldn't be untrue

and i know his eyes are really kind

we wait so willingly for the day 

when i believe that i will find

that he would rise to show me that

his eyes are really that kind

but where lies the day i ask him

when we leave the past behind

and something in him tells me

that he hardly seems inclined

time stops one day so suddenly

as though seeking to leave me in a bind

and i realize as i gaze up at him

that his eyes were never really kind