ubuntu

2.6

There is no use of a dead person,
Who's still breathing;
What mattered most is gone.

For the eyes are dull.
The heart is numb.
The smiles are fake.
The love is gone.

Was once happy, a confession to admit.
But the magic seemed to drift.
Don't ask him about a future,
Which he shall know none about.

But ask him about the past,
And you might figure out just enough.
The memories he made.
The affection they shared.
The love that felt like no other.

Yet every soul shall taste misery,
and his was drowning in agony.