He was once a love of mine,

In the palms of our hands,

We held time.

We made it wait for us, our buts, or ifs, and our ands.

Him and I were never meant to walk the full bounds of Earth,

I was too naive to see what things were worth.

He, so loyal, committed, and saw the beauty of tomorrow.

However, his sights on the beauty of tomorrow,

Killed the beauty of today.

And here, I lay.

There, he lay his head in rest in beautiful slumber.

We can no longer feed each other's hunger.

The air is just dead, and without love.

And now, I'm going to give back time.

And so is he.

If we hold it any longer, here will lay a crime.

We have to let go, or else we'll become blind; unable to see.

And who's heart will he find, that he will call his?

I cannot say the three words, or else it would end what I strive for.

This progress. Yes, this.

Do not despair yourself nor deplore.

Will lead this bottle to the sea's shore,

And cast it away and with it,

All of our uneasiness.

We are beings of imperfections, and wish to be endless.

However, love of all things,

Should be cherished for the time that it is given.

And not revoked.