It was the color of her lovely eyes

When they reflected the beautiful skies

Feeling morose, rain trickled down from them

Enraged, they became the ocean, those gems

With brutal raging storms wrecking poor ships

And violent winds casting you from her lips

I got lost in her robin's egg eyes from afar

But how fragile the shells always are

The last things I saw before she left

Were sapphires gleaming for another's theft

The color, like her eyes, is full of contradictions

From her lips she spilled beautiful fictions

It's a cold color, ask any painter or poet

Yet still they warm me thinking of them yet

Now another is holding her tonight

Those eyes will close without a fight

But everytime the hydrangas bloom,

I feel insurmountable, dreary gloom

it's the feeling when the last chords of your favourite song ends,

when the room is perfectly quiet

and perfectly still.

it’s his eyes at midnight

when the only light is from the streetlight above you

and your heart pounding in your chest,

because he’s promising you forever

it’s the beach at noon

when the sea and sky blend into one

and the horizon stretches into your soul.

it's the tears when you lose him.

and the skies when you find yourself.

its the opening chords of dawn

and the final chorus of dusk.