is always looked for again
but it may not be where you left it
moving on itself
and it is only this perspective
in the setting of the sun
that casts shadows far
like ghost net of what could have been
now it is so bled
that to catch it would require hope
no longer to be found
when eyes eclipse past dreams
one of the cruelest lessons
than only age can teach
is that your heart can echo beat
for something that is dead
and you can still stumble hollow for years
like a puppet pulled by strings
for audience that has left so long ago.