Under hart sonnet

I had the first on your mind
About it, there isn’t a cost
Somewhere, you must be mine
But now, there is only dust!

I’m not very fine,
We was on the lust,
With drinks, likely wine!
Now, I’m the last!

I hope in your line,
Alone in our dine,
Under Christmas pine!

I have been lost:
Without me, you, trust…
We end on the time!