Lost

When autumn’s end was drawing near,
And leaves turned gold and fell away,
The date approached, a silent tear—
The day you left, and couldn't stay.

Was it a dream from which I woke,
Crying, love, without a sound?
Or was it a test, a cruel joke,
One I failed, and broke unbound?

But why a test, when love was true?
You left a wound that won’t run dry,
A scar that bleeds with every hue,
Under the fading autumn sky.

17.01.1995
05:30

In the train, From Buzau to Adjud