Our Story Does Not Die

Love was a story written, until we came of age

just an empty book, written page by page

solitary authors with independent pen

spilling ink into each other, a story from the blend

Love was the lifelong dance, of four distinctive feet

moving with one another, in time to a single beat

Two solitary dancers with solitary flair

moving to a rhythm, extracted from the pair

Love was the song that played, heard only in our hearts

and formed a single melody, from the union of our parts

The music has played so long, it pains my heart to know

Our dance is nearly over, age says that you must go

It is an uncompleted story and I can not write the end

So I stare upon the empty page, with ink that has left my pen

I can not find the music and the dance has left my feet

It lingers at a heart, that has lost its lovers beat

I move between the covers, to read where I have been

searching for the music, so I may dance again

She whispers from the pages, "come and dance with me"

we live a story without end, we live in memory

a story written does not die, beacuse of an empty pen

It lives of ink within your heart, each time you read again"

So now I sing the story and I sing it page by page

and I dance to timeless music, that does not know my age

and as I do, I hear her voice, within the melody

two who choose to sing as one, and all from memory.