It’s been a thousand years,
Of solitude, with many tears;
Oft recurring the moments,
This has the mind in torments;
Peeping through the veil of time,
Spoken words are rare, just mime;
The splinters from the fire of passion,
Has burnt down the taffeta in ugly fashion;
Two souls smeared with the exuberance,
Yet there is some element of cumbrance;
Unable to delve deeper unto each other,
An uneasiness which causes a bother;
Wailing in despair and still holding on,
Also, trying to kindle a fire with the magic potion.
The scratches on the skins seems to heal,
Still the lovers are apart, because of a sinister deal;
Yet, the passionate souls resurrect after thousand years.
As both the souls of the lovers unite, to ward off the fears;
Unite will they and no might can keep them apart,
With all might the lovers fight, and force the enemies to depart;
An after a thousand years, the lovers unite one more time.
Healed by the power of passionate love and again in their prime.