I remember his love 

His over-confident might

He was the soul of the poems I wanted to write but my heart fell and my poems went with it

My heart thought about burning flowers and falling skies 

But he never thought of writing about your eyes

Your eyes where I could fit my world

In the eyes of a simple man

The eyes of a tortured man 

I asked about it again and again

If you can't carry your grief let me

Your despair will also be mine

But I never realized the time had passed

And our love had flown

Because I didn't realize our sorrows are our own

I didn't realize the graveyard of life is waiting for the things that are now to sink through the bottom

But oh aching soul, oh blooming heart

The love I wanted to stop could already start

So on this graveyard overgrown with grass

My soul will slowly lose its grasp

Of the things that are and the things that have been

Weeping under the willow tree

Alone, without me

I'll be weeping under my own tree