Forever thee flame could not be kindled

Our love was unlike other loves, easy

Wild tongues spread, unable to be swindled.

And happily, it was a fantasy

Today, sadly, like every fantasy

For many days and sorrow filled nights

The book ended in tragic ecstasy.

I would cry, loud, at the sight of his plight

When I opened my eyes to the sad sight,

Everything I knew was apostacy.

T'was what I saw that made me forever fight.

Thus, my life was not a fantasy.

Life a fantasy, it never was, see

And sadly, tragically, never will be.