Our Song

Can you feel the past in the night?
Of pain and hurt and sacrifice?
The same haunting melody
Which we once thought was divine
It was to be this, it was to be here,
It was to be our song
Can’t you see the same starry nights?
The beginning of beauty undefined
Can’t you feel the start again, our beginning?
All captured in the magic of that one rhyme
We were the flowing meadows, we were the skies
We had something which was our shrine
But as the song plays on, as it transcends
What became of our song
Lies here, in this, the pits of our hearts
In the un-meeting of eyes and the withering shine
And the reasons and impatience and pain
This became of us and our song
This broken, ugly rhyme