The fires die out so quickly
The flames winkout in an instant
Gone are the worries of everyday
Gone too are the words you weren't able to say
Alas fair-haired Gwendolyn
with your unseeing, beautiful eyes.
Ah, poor girl of the cerrulean eyes
Never to see the magicks of the world
Never knowing the reasons why
But wait, is that a spark I see
Or some hope born of heart-break, despair
I see, simply the last light faded
Then winked out, disappeared.
Oh my poor sweet Gwendolyn
gone are your worldly fears
Gone too is the pain inflicted by years
Rest easy my sweet Gwendolyn
Time has stopped your tears....
