A Dying Heart

I never believe that a man could be alive, his heart dies.
He is a lively sweet young man with a smile on his face, a broken heart.
But he prefers his lover leaves than accepts all the lies.
I see him cries for his lover, but I agree with him on my part.
On his dreams he saw his lover walking in a forest made of golden trees.
He saw an angel from Heaven walking behind his lover, but cannot love like he loves.
On another dream he saw his lover riding a boat in the mist of the wide seas.
He straighten his hand to catch his lover, but unable to touch his lover thereof.
He said he will see his lover dancing in his dream tonight.
His dying heart shall never be awakening. It shall die forever.
O, dying heart, when you dream of your lover, awake, turn on the light.
Open the door; I will be at the door. I will give you kisses and enter.
I will give you kisses, sweet kisses upon your mouth.
My tongue shall be sweeter, sweeter than your first lover who gone south.