Whispers from deep voices that seemingly deteriorate;
We chorused into the thunderous sound of that old cello.
Not a harmony we could ever create,
This is not what I intend, everything turned askew.

That old pendulum is swaying to its usual way,
A resemblance of our long gone grieves
It was an affair crammed with dismay.

But darling, you've got your demons now;
Down to the age of your throwbacks, stupefying you every now and then
And here I am, still that vigilant somehow.

The double six tragedy was indeed an epic.
Distance, silence, timing, all falling into an illusion,
And yes, that was your treacherous scheme, making me even more frantic
But life never stops there, in the end there would still be an affirmation.