My heart knows best
the song of another winter,
its stifles and grins
and the aching of its lost perfection.

Frozen lips, pained eyes
I had twirled under the apple trees.
Of course, I was only a seething glance
upon time's bitter face.
who vowed to trample me down
under its polished boots
to end my heart's song.

Another blur passes me,
I know it in reverse now.
The forgotten memory
It's all I have left
Of the past.