In youth's tender grasp, we danced, carefree,
Unaware of the wounds, the silent plea.
Hearts wounded, yet hoping to be set free,
Bound by a love that was never meant to be.
Too blind, too obstinate, we held on tight,
One spoke in hurt, the other in spite.
A painful dance, through day and night,
Yet one chose to stay, despite the fight.
Now, in the autumn of days long gone,
The scars remain, a lingering dawn.
Time's cruel hand, it marches on,
Leaving a love once bright, now drawn.
To understand the wounds, it took too long,
A love so right, yet gone so wrong.
Echoes of pain, a siren's song,
In the symphony of a love that's gone.
