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.