With notions purely fixed in time,
the antidote to love's own rhyme;
Fulfills each fear of future loss,
divulging depths from wayward cost.

In languid hours of disarray,
a wounded heart has gone astray;
Pretending life has drawn the cord,
away from meaningful accord.

Eventually the souls resign,
to losing faith in thoughts aligned;
With all the mystery at play,
then seek to find another way.

But in the core of every source,
hope still recalls its mighty force;
And when all hearts meet in one place,
their goal is reached...forever graced.