Broken are our vows, over is our relation,
but still withholding commiseration,
and though we are danger for ourselves,
and though we know the uprooting threats,
but staying apart stays a question.
In the ugly times, we enclose ourselves,
away from the world in a solitary den,
we’re lost and stuck in our dungeon of thoughts,
but display to one another like goods on shelves.
Consequences stand very well you know,
but you spread out your arms,
like a protective parent sparrow,
not a heed to spare,
not another lonesome ache to bear,
embracing our souls, but our minds still unclear,
elating at the seventh sky, and not even a furrowed brow!
Though the truth stands unaltered,
that in one another’s possession is where we belong,
and there only we breathe, where plays our happy song!