I unlock the vault,
I open the door,
I close my eyes,
I look at the floor.
I take a step,
Into the dark,
I glance behind me,
I see the mark.
Taking a peek,
Seeing the colour,
I open my eyes,
Then I see the summer.

The heat on my face as I held his hand,
The grass on my feet as I sang with the band,
Watching, like movies, these pictures flicker by,
Vague whispers of a world lost in a lullaby.

Delving deeper into the wrath of the past sun,
I catch a memory butterfly,
And look into its eyes.
They tell the tale of a summer’s afternoon,
Spent in the arms of the one I once knew,
Back in the days of the time spent in fields,
Laughing with each other and knowing what was real.

But that particular day took place on a bench,
And was so special it left a defined etch in my head.
I savoured that day like one protects their heart,
As that was the day our lips touched and did not part.

It’s time, close the box,
Let the butterfly fly away,
Because the sadness is filling my head,
Knowing the happiness I led astray.

I turn around,
I see the door,
I pick up the key,
And begin to walk.
As I reach the the mark,
I left before,
I look behind me,
And feel the sun once more