Was a figment of imagination, a real scare,
It wasn’t like anything anywhere,
A passing wind something I couldn’t care,
And couldn’t have been there.
It was a river that half flowed,
A candle that dimly glowed,
A thing without a name,
Always changing never the same.
It was a half a smile,
The sun that rose half a mile,
The roof that was half blown,
The baby that was half born.
Regrets in the absence of the right word,
Luck in the presence of right sword,
We woke at dawn,
Dusk got us, embers have gone.
The embers are now honey that don’t taste,
Bread that has gone to waste,
Stream of love that died out,
A desolate haven that I pulled out.