A metaphor, a message,

Diverged in word and thought

Of who we are, of what we do,

Of love that we have wrought.

Of dreams of joy and fairy tales,

Those we held as true

As saplings of the golden grove,

As babies born anew.

A metaphor, a message,

Diverged in word and thought

Of who we were, of what we did,

Our love, like us, distraught.

Of broken hope, and endless tears,

The loss of once-had bliss

Shattered is the love we had,

Bitter: fatality's kiss.