I said,
The seed of our love has not yet bloomed, with the potential to grow into a mighty oak.
but it has been killed by the harsh winter, that is our love.
She Said,
It may be torn down, but we can still re-plant.
The winter will soon pass, and the spring will come again.
I said,
As the spring comes the weeds will strangle and devour,
the heart shaped flower, that is our love.
She said,
Even the weeds can die, but this sweet flower will be protected by us,
the centre of our love.
I said,
The thorns of deception shall always be there,
crippling and stinging with stabbing pain,
the savage deceiver that is our love.
She said,
The thorns may hurt now, but the wounds will soon mend
and with our unbreakable love, the scar will soon fade.
I said,
The mighty oak is dead, the precious flower has wilted,
The weeds now rule our kingdom, that was our love.
