... Of Golden Dust

If the trees blew 
in the breeze. 
The sound could carry 
on and on, forever. 
Never failing, never free. 

Slowly her eyes closed, 
the heavy lashes slapped shut. 
Pushing out the world, 
surrounded in darkness. 
Her lights glory 
shining shimmering 
magical dreams 
of golden dust... 

Blown away in the wind 
scattered and glittering, 
like the diamonds we found 
in her eyes. 

If this night would never end, 
we could eternally live 
in this magic. 
Never saying goodbye 
to our high...