Sweet burning melancholia.

Sweet burning melancholia.

I saw the streets from my window
Cold winter nights passed by
Lights flickered beneath crimson curtains
Of shadows waving goodbye

Snowflakes fell on the carpet
Of patterns, various in size
Footsteps came and departed
The doorbells echoed a familiar cry

A fire crackled in the hearth
As memories were burnt
Of a bittersweet symphony
The day you never returned

So I sat, and stared at the door
Awaiting your suffocating silence
Cobwebs and dust covered the violence
Even home missed your familiar scent

I gazed at these streets from my window
A silhouette of paranoia
And I see all these shadows
Of a sweet burning melancholia.

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