All the photographs were peeling

And colors turned to gray, he stayed

In his room with memories for days, he faced

An undertow of futures laid to waste, embraced

By the loss of one what he could not replace

There's no reason that she passed

And there is no god with a plan, it's sad

The door swings to a passing fable

A fate we may delay, we say

Holding on, delivered in our own brace

Eleven nights he laid in bed

Hoping that dreams will bring her back, it's sad

Holding his last breath, believing

He'll make his way

But she's not forgotten

He's haunted

He's searching for escape

If just one wish could bring her back, it's send

He will always love you, it's sad