Acorns

Sailing alone through this dark abyss; you're the one thing on my mind.

These stinging stars once burned so clearly but now our tears will make us blind.

Shooting stars are angels from heaven, falling like acorns on blood stained snow.

You felt so real and smelled like forever, I can't believe I'm letting you go.

If loose lips sink ships, then tortured tongues bury cities. 

I swear I'll find your hand through this ruble and I'll never let you go.