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.