Two lovers walk down a desolate street.
On the river casts a shadow of three.
Crowds adore the two, the water sees me
As love marches through,
Loneliness will stew.
Noble to many,
Devastating few.
Happy ending, unheard cries.
Till death do they part.
Perfect- secret- lies.
Dec 12, 2025
Dec 12, 2025 at 2:39 PM UTC