Over the hill, beneath the tree,

We lay upon the dew-kissed grass.

Embraced in passion, ever free,

A moment too precious to ever last.

The fleeting hours, a stolen fire,

Consumed us in its golden gleam.

But like a dream, or heart's desire,

It faded with the morning's beam.

Now I wander like a ghost,

Through empty fields where laughter died.

To you, the one I loved the most,

I’ll see you on the other side.

Though time may quench the embers' glow,

And time itself may turn to dust,

No amount of rain or snow,

Could drown the flame that burn for us.