Entwined we stared upon the starry night,
White spiderwebs adorned the woods like lace,
The cold moon wore a garland of pale light,
That cast gold radiance around your face.

But new love's bloom can slowly turn to grey,
And promise drips like candle grease it seems.
When our eyes met, I should have turned away,
Cruel passing time did not respect our dreams.

Oh reader fond, do not misunderstand,
These remnants of past love hold no disdain,
Love stories are not always built on sand,
And broken hearts won't always harbour pain.

Much better to have loved and let it go,
Than never to have felt your heart aglow.