Forgotten Love

I am his forgotten love,
But he the smile upon my face.
His path it lies in northern spheres,
Whilst mine lies in that forgotten place.

Today, his music lies in Verdi’s hands,
Forgotten, Debussy’s variations.
Still, dull, are the embers of his heart,
Not knowing the fire of mine still blazons.

Forgotten, that youthful time of wild romance.
Gone, that open door where passion stomped
And heaving breath flamed the fire
Where passion freely romped.

But my heart, it holds no bitterness.
No roots of sorrow spread from me,
For I was loved with burning passion,
Which still ignites my memory.