Silver moon silhouettes dance across the sky
reflecting yesterday upon the waves.
Shadows of the past. Lost horizon days,
once resting, resurrect in pristine pain.
Some yesterdays, like the tide, never fade.
Stories of the heart. Illusionary dreams.
Endeared imaginations, crystal clear.
The one we thought we knew so well,
was nothing more than our creation.
A figment of a promise once sincere.
