Oh, how I miss your smile,

Oh, how I miss your smile,
As though you were thy flower,
Which grows upon thy white powder,

Oh, how I miss your smile,
As though you were thy flower,
Which craves thy touch of last lights hour,

Oh, how I miss your smile,
As though you were thy flower,
No sleep have I found in twilight's hour,
For these tears I face are a heavy shower,

Oh, how I miss your smile,
As though you were thy flower,
Thy sadness was forever growing,
For thy own was lost without knowing,

Oh, how I miss your smile,
As though you were thy flower,
For here I stand at such an hour,
As though a poet of the ages,
Left to ponder if thy madness is truly showing.