And she stares, cold as she ever was. Nothing but a pair of hollow blue eyes; No more tears to cry, only time to bide. Perhaps she is a product of my mind. It matters little; her figure lingers, it reminds And she stares, cold as she ever was. I have rehearsed apologies, repeated, Yet outside of reason, or excuse, words fail me. No more tears to cry, only time to bide Until she comes for me. Not long now Until a curtain call, a final bow to empty rows And she’ll stare, cold as she ever was. She sits with me now, not with malice or hate Nor contempt. To witness it all is her prize. And she stares, cold as she ever was. No more tears to cry, she has bide her time.