1
our pages turned and fell away
before we even made amends
as flake by fragile flake, the sun
arose to melt all that descends

2
our voices joined but died away
before we even reached the end
as note by ringing note, a chord
is struck and held without reward

3
our mouths rejoined but (breathless) sighed
before our story reached the end
as leaf by dying leaf, the sound
of blossoms floating to the ground

Penned by my hand on the 6th of Ios, in the year 285 MA.