Too Late

Folder:

Land of the Living

There’s nothing more one need tell.

I well know the score.

No one can unring a bell

And I have lost the war.

Yesterday they might have succumbed to my charms

But tonight I must bow and lay down these arms.

Look at him -

Oh, to possess such stunning beauty,

Those patrician cheekbones that slice the night…

How they shimmer and shine like beams of light.

Honesty is a solemn duty

So I must acknowledge all the truth will allow…

No, I cannot compare - it’s too late for me now.

Clouds fill my sky with ominous grey.

It’s in the mirror, too - that can’t be denied.

Frost reminds us nothing gold can stay

So I must bid farewell to these points of pride.

What bloomed and blossomed is slowly degrading,

These once vivid petals at long last fading.