We were meant to be together—
was that not the cruelest lie of all?
Fate tied our hands with silken threads,
only to sever them with rusted steel.

You and I, two halves of a shattered whole,
grasping for each other through the fog of time,
only to find our fingers slipping,
our voices drowned in the silence of the inevitable.

Love did not save us.
It devoured, it burned, it bled.
And yet, even as we walk separate paths,
even as the years carve distance between us,
I know—deep in the marrow of my bones—
that I will never be whole again.