Nostalgia Was Our Imperfect Opiate

Under Oppressive Stars We Made a Pact We Both Knew We Would Never Keep

Our Dreams Gave Us the Illusion of Hope

For a Brief Moment There Was Grandeur in the World, and Anything Seemed Possible

The Sunrise Destoyed All We Thought Was Beautiful

We Sought Comfort in Familiar Patterns

We Walked the Border Between Oblivion and Enlightenment

In the End the Rain Was Not Enough (So Romance Died)