grave of a romance

What’s that whose limit is the sky?
I know clouds, their limit is the rain
My limit?
Thinking about you!and thinking about you again—
I have broken so many pledges and forsaken so many vows
I don’t trust my self any more but,
I guess that’s the way it goes—
Why do these flowers still bloom?
Why do the butterflies dance?
These questions only make sense to people
living in the grave of a romance