She thinks that I could never, never ever, write her a lovely poem.
As if my pen has dried from the fountain of oblivion;
But in this one, this one and only, I know she might listen,
For this happened quiet sometime in an April's blue moon!
Oh! The whole world rebelled against my shattered soul,
But in that one cold night she alone was with me.
I was downtrodden, heaven and hell, the angels and devils summon,
In all that was left of me I painfully ignored, but she was with me!
There she was under the moonlight crying, filling my heart with her,
The world's soon to end, for life and love seemed impossible,
I thought the wars of men and religions, are to write our destiny;
But I held her hand, felt heaven, her sweet brown eyes were upon me.
Ah, that was how we wrote the petals of eternity in our love story,
She's all that I think of, right here, how I wished she was with me!