In a boring bland summer, it is almost noon, you’ve been gone, with no trace of you since that full moon.

In the silent silence as the clock ticks, distance builds between you like a wall of bricks.

And each night under the twinkling stars, she thinks about you and her itching scars,

Solo as she stands, she thinks you are on the other side of this wall, that you stand alone; helpless in an empty hall.

For you left to her without explaining, as to why her heart was determinedly destined to breaking.

She remembers how imcomplete it felt; the last time you, in your arms let her melt,

Her tender heart full of innocence and loyalty, could probably never figure out yours of plain cruel duplicity.

When her happy life was coloured in varied shades of the rainbow, yours was one in black, predestined for sorrow.

Irreparable, Irreconcilable, irrevocable; her faith in you undoubtedly remains shaking but in place forever.

Till you come home, that heart of her’s shall sadly surrender, to thy memory; thee, her absentee lover.

To thee her absentee lover.