Maybe it was never meant to be,
The universe just couldn't have it.
Maybe I was never meant to be,
It could be, but right now I can't even tell the difference.

Am I a bad omen? A harbinger of sorrow?
Do they know what I've never managed to conclude?
Maybe, but this disappearing act is ungodly.
How can such cruelty be justified?

I've transcended the stage of self doubt.
But overcoming it doesn't mean understanding.
Who invented this act of elusiveness?
This slippery beast that has mastered the art of evasion.
How do I come to terms with what is happening?
How do I admit that I've been trying to love a ghost?