I see the teardrops where you once stood. But you are no longer there.
I see darkness up above. It reminds me of dark black hair.
Stains upon a window pane paint a picture of pain so fine.
And there we sit, a distant past, our love lost in the fire.
Tear drops falling from above seem to remind me of that love.
They fall between my fingertips and remind me of parted lips.