In the cold and lonely street,
In the dark alleys of insanity,
Nothing to drink or eat,
For my profit in love was mere vanity.
I write to her this plea,
That she may come back to me,
For her love was my light,
As the moon is to the night.
Now shadows stretch, and echoes wane,
Yet my heart beats with hope's refrain.
For in her absence, I'm but a ghost,
Yearning for what I cherish most.
So let these words reach her soul's embrace,
And bring back the warmth of her loving grace.
For in the cold and lonely street,
Her return would make my world complete.