Once more, I searched for where my dreams took hold-
The scrap She signed, now faded and cold.
Its edges frayed, ink fading fast -
I sought her again... to make moment last.
But as I approached - my heart on display,
A figure emerged, cutting through the fray.
Words spun in sweetness, in practiced lie
His tongue, a blade, soft yet keen -
Convinced her gently of what should have been.
"Leave them with one, let them cherish that score,
For two would diminish what they value more."
Her eyes met mine, but warmth was lost -
A flicker of doubt, with terrible cost.
"One is enough" She whispered, soft and slow -
Drowned by his charm, his presence, his glow.
I stood there, silent, my pride in dust -
watching them converse in betrayal of trust.
Anger swelled, and words would not come,
I turned heel, with heart heavy and numb.

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Sarapin, in the year 954 AF.