... 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...