Here we stand in the ruins of our lies,
Here we stand in the ends of our ties.
And when I thought my life has been planned,
And when I thought our plans has been tied,
I thought, I thought, I just thought.
Has the pen run out of story to write,
For I know I have so much to site.
Was I the one? Were you the one?
When all this time you were gone.
The sun meets the moons for a reason,
And here I am seeking for a beacon.
Promises and memories,
Secrets and mysteries,
Were turned into histories
– alyjane ♡