The moon wanes, the tides recede, the leaves fall;
Good days give way to rain, and soon,
I will run out of stories to tell.

When from the depths of slumber you wake from my bed
And I point to the horizon, I pray
That you remember the moment that you and I first kissed
The time when a great warmth shone over the gloomy air
And a ray of hope shot through existence
As the earth and the sky met.

When I tucked you in the night before, recall
The sight of the city skyline at dawn,
When twilight would give way to certainty
And enveloped all in warmth.

But hold your breath and let me kiss you,
Sleep a moment longer for I have no stories to tell.

That while I trace your brow, know that
I am touching the strands of your dreams.
When I watch you sleep, I am keeping away
The nearing shadows.

For though I no longer have any stories
- all my stories are about us, now -
The world still holds the tales I have yet to tell.