Her eyes would shine in an evening moonlight,
for the remainder of our lives we might
remember forever this night,
ours was the beauty of knowing love is right.
If I could ever retrace the steps that brought us love,
oh to know the course of time,
the words, the actions that suggest this forever,
our love is an eternal flame, a nostalgic romance.
Life is chance filled with automatic and random,
those indifferences that could level a kingdom
when what she believed he felt perhaps was humdrum,
oh if only he’d let go of pride and tossed away his fiefdom
We the creatures of habit who implore upon our fortune
to be the one that matter, far and lost when is opportune.