The tears of denial bring about closure
With such tears there is no room for leisure,
Oh but dost thou talk about perfection
When golden were these tender tears
There was naught but realisation.

These tender tears were made with zeal
For a time yet to think about,
To talk about, or cry about.
Indeed that was their right
To fight not, but love everlasting.

Oh! but truly, how did we truly love!
'twas but a setback yet unknown
Yet still to be looked upon,
Yet still to be felt upon,
Yes it was all left upon my tender tears!

And now there is no time,
No planning left nor word unsaid.
Now it's only cold,
Such cold that froze my tender tears,
That dauntless cold I've felt for oh so long!