His tombstone memories

Sometimes I gaze upon her beauty and wonder. If she knows her worth, she chooses someone like you. Has she made a blunder or is her choice right? Do you give up when she turns annoying or do you stay and fight. He sits upon a tombstone and wonders of her brown eyes, her effervescent nature and charming smile. She runs in his thoughts and his prayers has whispers of her name. He wishes her well, and yet on the memories of his past he does dwell. The tales he tells of her beauty and grace. May not be believed yet he pictures her beautiful face. And remarkable as it may seem she is still the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Keen are his intentions to gaze upon her one last time. Stroke her brown hair and kiss her forehead which made him feel ecstatic and sublime. Peace can be attained on a soul so clear, yet his love can't quiver and that makes things queer. She is a key and a queen to his throne. Yet by another her heart is owned, grown and they blossomed like the seeds which brings forth a tree. Gone like the strom, away did she flee. His temper and hers, made them a combination of disgust. She based their relationship of lust and he based it on trust. He took from her what she did not want to give, a heart that beats and makes him live. His pride brought forth his downfall and brought him to his knees. Trust was never an option to be used as a key. His ego filled his heart and her vindictiveness pierced her soul. Revenge was sweet as their hearts both grew cold. He got what he wanted and she deserved every bit. Look where she stands now and watch how his pain makes him sit. Slit are his veins and crippled is her heart. Reminiscent is his soul still stuck in his past. She did move on fast and was easy as can be. Her name on his lips every night is with what he does sleep. She isn't there to hold him and he misses kissing her goodnight. He lost the fragrance of her skin as for years she isn't within his sight. The feeling of her head on his chest and he watches her pout while she sleeps through the night. The feeling of being her comfort isn't there for him to keep. Tis but the truth of how pride and anger fell in love. What you thought would last isn't planned by the one sitting above.

Written and composed by
Timothy Justin Rudolph Rodricks