Precious
Special
Hold close sweet treasure
Of memories and feelings
Shared
For we are in the killing fields
And in the aftermath
What is left
But bitter from sweet
And too sour turned
For more to flower

So much invested
And in the quiet
My wish would be
To hold tightly
Those hopes and dreams
Oneday wished
And at very least to know
That love I do
And loved I was
And not every flower turned brown
In the killing fields