The morning after I left,

I made my way back to your little cottage in the woods,

And handpicked a bouquet of dandelions—— your favorite, while

Drifting through their golden sea.

I made my way back to your little cottage in the woods,

Past the whispering meadows, the sylvan glades.

Drifting through their golden sea,

I float, unseen, past memories lost in lingering mist

Past the whispering meadows, the sylvan glades,

I revisit our moments, longing to mend what I broke.

I float, unseen, past memories lost in lingering mist,

A ghost seeking solace in a world it doesn’t belong.

I revisit our moments, longing to mend what I broke——but I can’t.

So I place the flowers on your moss-covered doorstep,

The solace of a ghost in a world it doesn’t belong.

And I slip into the shadows with a silent farewell,

The morning after I left.