Like the pages of the book we ruined that day in the rain
When we walked through the dark ***** streets in secret
Without a care for the downpour that endured
We are warped and the ink is smeared
Overcome with blackness and nothingness
Distorting and destroying the beauty that once lay there.

Our words are gone, just the memory of what lay there before
We were made of the weakest material
Paper wasn't made to last forever
Stone would have weathered the storm
But stone was too heavy for you to carry and not as poetic as paper
You always loved poetry, so how could you let the book, our poetry die like this?

You ignored the clouds before us and let it drown me
While you stood up on my shoulders to keep your head above the flood
Careless, you left our pages cockled after I carried us
Damaged beyond repair because of our - your ignorance to what encompassed us
Beauty in words couldn't protect us from the onslaught
That fate had set out for us
The perfect pathetic fallacy for the fairytale ending we never had.