anything we said
in frantic rage before you left our bed
had better been unsaid

the era of our bond
were carried by our ignorance for long
so sad to behold

lonesome ride on
frozen time to
find a way
that we could start again
to find the same

and anything we swore
were fragile lies when we had closed the door to fool ourself again
and all what has remained
is just the insight of our yesteryear
so sad inane

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