Fatalities

A book left on a shelf.

Untouched, collecting dust.

A once gold ring.

Tarnished, lost its lust.

Do I linger in your thoughts

After all the battles we fought?

Do I stain your memory?

Do you struggle to burn away our history?

Do you ever fantasize

The life we could've had realize

Dreams were never meant to intertwine with reality.

Seems that love is nothing but a fatality.