What is isn't, what was wasn’t

Flowers that bloom by the song of fire,

hope of eternal love burn down the desire,

howling at the moon,

a painful night that came so soon,

Into the garden of love,

I thought I found a home,

it was just a mere illusion,

like a stranded man finds a mairage that bought him to his doom,

birds singing and the morning dew,

many beautiful moments yet so few

a dreadful morning that came so soon. ~SA