Black coffee mornings, I am in mourning. Over what has been lost and afraid of what will be.
In the present, I am; but the past is all I see. It\'s your ghost that haunts me,
as I recollect all of our memories.
Rest in peace to who I used to be.
To the future I belong, but I need to breathe. Today I stand, but with the pressure of recovery.
Oh, what is grief, if not love persevering?