He cries…
If only it was her tear sliding down that cheek,
So pale,
So ashen,
Still so soft,
But lacking the warm vitality
He once saw in her.

He muses…
If only he had realized earlier
The way he truly felt,
Her bright eyes might now have closed
So full of melancholy,
So wearily—
Or would they have even closed at all?

He knows…
Even if he could turn back time,
Nothing would have changed,
So…

He walks away…
Without a word;
It never was, and never would be,
True love.