Its All Over

 
Where the sun dies,
The shadow of silence cries
On the wind where petals flutter
As we face each other
On the blossoms that grow
In the vision of the snow
Where the aurora of your eyes
Never dims and never dies.
 
Its all over. Its all over.
The pain is over.
 
In the underworld so cold,
We never will grow old.
Our passage will seem,
Like nothing but a dream.
We are falling leaves
In this desert of garden trees—
Our breath entwined in the sand
While we sleep here, hand in hand.
 
Its all over. Its all over.
The pain is over
 
And embers dance overhead,
Where the moon and stars are wed.
Are we running free in their echoes
That give voice to the rose?
We are the farther field of flame,
Where fallen suns remain.
And my home is in your eyes,
Where newborn suns now rise.
 
© 2021 Marten Hoyle