The Ghost of Paradise

I pick up the shards
of my shattered dream of peace.
These wounds leave more than scars,
the dead are more than deceased.

All the memories we made
In our innocent, carefree state.
We never dreamt we would see that day,
Where we'd come to terms with fate.

Boxes full of letters I never sent,
Goals we never met.
Places that we never went,
Heartbreak I won't soon forget.

The secrets I never told,
The arguments we never forgave.
Now the streets once paved with gold,
Are lined with unmarked graves.

An "I love you" I never told,
A confession I never made.
Now on this street once paved with gold,
I stand at your unmarked grave.