Alone

I don't think I can remember 
sounds of the summers's playful flute 
all I can hear is deafening silence 
among the memories of two. 

And what has been is now forgotten 
and what will be is yet unknown 
and I'm so tired and so broken 
of being sick, being alone. 

And, hell, I know the only power 
the only reason to go on 
is knowing that your heart, like flower, 
some day with mine will fully bloom. 

But now and here is starry winter 
and eyes are glittering with woe 
my soul is cold and dark, with splinters, 
it's hard to learn to be alone. 

[Last Winter - More Than You Know]