A droplet glides across the pane, drenched by the rain Tracing a reflection that no longer remains Like the hollow border of an ancient frame Tucked away in an attic, forgotten by name. I reach my hand to graze the empty air Where your laughter used to linger there Time is a hangman with no mercy to spare So he stopped the clock for us, in a secret somewhere. For this longing is a burden I choose to uphold A splinter of light, a thorn made of gold Though the gears may turn and the world may fold Our treasure is a story that time can't corrode. And in the hush that the storm left behind The glow of that memory is all I can find The only inheritance that time couldn't bind What was ours is still yours, and forever is mine. For this longing is a burden I choose to uphold A splinter of light, a thorn made of gold Though the gears may turn and the world may fold Our treasure is a story that time can't corrode. The rain has ceased... But the frame is still here. Intact. Eternal.
