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Description
Happiness is but a prelude to tragedy.

When I look at her I see only her youth, when I look in her, I see only pain. From the smile
on her face to her tears dried on mine, we have been a maelstrom in sanctuary.

With the resulting white lies blackened by the flames of a vicious memory, we carry on; her
arm consuming mine as we parade bliss. We roll in it and we soak it. But I wonder.

Fleeting as a childhood, I know our love shall become no monolith; resting eternally as
memorial ruins, to be built upon, heralded and never forgotten. It will be glorious rubble.

We will remember it as a fruitless tree, barren and long since fallen mayhap. No new life,
but strong, purposeful, shade-giving, loved, vast, gnarled, wilted, withered and dead.

I speak of our time as if it has long since past even though my eyes light ablaze every time
I see her; every time I touch her I quiver and I melt. But deep inside I see the tide.

We have waxed strong: every incident and wound healing greater than before, and we have
filled in the frame our cascading hopes draped below. The fullest moon wanes.

Why I lose myself when I talk to her is the blinding sands the winds of our passion scream
into my eyes; the great pleasure we share, the great future I bear. I lose myself.

Description
Happiness is but a prelude to tragedy.

When I look at her I see only her youth, when I look in her, I see only pain. From the smile
on her face to her tears dried on mine, we have been a maelstrom in sanctuary.

With the resulting white lies blackened by the flames of a vicious memory, we carry on; her
arm consuming mine as we parade bliss. We roll in it and we soak it. But I wonder.

Fleeting as a childhood, I know our love shall become no monolith; resting eternally as
memorial ruins, to be built upon, heralded and never forgotten. It will be glorious rubble.

We will remember it as a fruitless tree, barren and long since fallen mayhap. No new life,
but strong, purposeful, shade-giving, loved, vast, gnarled, wilted, withered and dead.

I speak of our time as if it has long since past even though my eyes light ablaze every time
I see her; every time I touch her I quiver and I melt. But deep inside I see the tide.

We have waxed strong: every incident and wound healing greater than before, and we have
filled in the frame our cascading hopes draped below. The fullest moon wanes.

Why I lose myself when I talk to her is the blinding sands the winds of our passion scream
into my eyes; the great pleasure we share, the great future I bear. I lose myself.