The Union

(poeLast summer, a seed was planted,

And then as it took root, the melody began to form.
A melody between friends that soon became a summer symphony,
And as the root of that first chord began to bloom,
The symphony became a concert, the first of many to come;
But that first night where that lovely plant was given, he knew then, what was missing.
So the beauty of the rose married the power of music,
And the blissful summer concert came to an end.

Fall came.
The leaves of their love began to fall.
Winter followed.
And so did Music’s big break,
Of Rose’s heart, which began to grow cold.
And now, Spring has arrived.
Instead of renewing and repotting his love.
Music was always travelling,
Performing,
Rehearsing,
But seldom did he love,
Care,
Or try to be there for his fragile Rose.
Popularity and success rapidly overshadowed her beauty,
And as his influence took root all over the world,
Her love was ready to be cut.
And cut she did, as her last petal of patience fell,
She left Music,
And left in him the thorns of a pain so deep,
A pain so strong,

That his dominant never resolved to the final tonic.ms go here)