Color of Dust

Live and learn,
fight and burn.
A girl in view,
a painting, like new.

The story doesn't change.
The picture starts to blister,
showing its original glister.

The colors fall
like dust to the floor,
polluting the ground
and everything around.

As they blow over the world,
they get breathed in by strangers.
Somewhere in time,
just a fraction of her
will meet me again.

We'll never be free;
it'll always be you and me.