The Vase

The vase

I now hold this vase
As I once held his face
Oh it doesn't replace
What is gone.

The flowers he brought
Just after we fought
Love and passion was hot
But it's done.

His kisses were fine
His tongue curled with mine
For his body I pine
All alone.

When love is a Game
And it roars like a flame
But it ends just the same
Life goes on.