𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘳, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥. There are people who enter your life like a line break. They shift the rhythm, alter your breath, and change everything without trying. What bloomed between Poet and Agape was neither fleeting nor fragile at first, but a fire that demanded its own time, a love that was real and alive, until life and choices drew them apart. They never asked for forever, though they had it once. But some verses fall quietly, and in their falling, they become the ones we remember most.