She is over, she is gone,
by Barry Van Allen
I must be off, to carry on,
I must be leaving,
as the trees will do in autumn.
Although I still don't think it right,
I must respect the other night,
It took my love and made me helpless,
to defend against it.
She has left to find what's right,
to find white horses bearing knights,
to find a world made of love,
and to pretend again.
I pray she finds the love she sees.
I fear she'll find herself unpleased,
and due to pride, won't let me know,
how much it really hurts.
After everything, she's still a friend,
and I would take her in again,
but, this time as a cuddle,
not as a bittersweet rebuttal,
to what we did or didn't do,
on rainy nights.