the tiny little figures, danced across the keys
and in the way they moved, was comforting to me
for the beauty in their pirouettes, and in their dips
made me think of whispers, dancing on your lips

they moved with such, grace and purity
it made me think, they simply danced for me
they had wings of silver, and when they moved away
it made you think that darkness, had claimed the light of day

they weeved and bounced, along the waters edge
and when they seemed to finish, they started up again
my hands reached for them, and pulled apart their wings
but the creatures meerly danced, as if i was the dream

but they could not last forever, in this pagentry of light
for every thing that lasts eternity, eventually must die
so i buried the beauties, of that summer's dream
but i found myself a souvenir, when i found the beauties wings

so i wrapped up the memories, of that dreams lovely night
and i bought a single rose, and planted it at first light
and every evening hense, when the sun sets in the sky
i think about mortality, and even beauty must one day die.