I won\'t say the words
I can feel it on my tongue,
words scraping past the grooves.
The last ones you sung,
before the reaper took your moves,
before the tunes turned dark,
before the silence moved in,
before the extinguishing of your spark,
and the loneliness felt within.
I can feel those words true,
cooling to a windless chill.
The last ones sung by you,
their meaning frozen still.
I can feel it on my tongue,
scraping past the grooves.
The last words you sung,
before you stopped your moves.