Decades ago we sparked a flame, and we acutely wished it eternal,

but the benevolent flame crescendoed, and slowly became infernal.

“You are no longer the man I married,” I scream when you are not around,

but no sound comes out of my mouth, my voice and I have drowned.

Now our ship is sinking, it can hardly stay afloat.

I battened down the hatches and I never gave up hope.

I gave up my life for you so that we could take this trip,

but now all I am left with is tears and an ever-sinking ship.

I should have weighed my anchor when the looming storm impended,

but the severity of the storm was admittedly much more than intended.

Now we are under water, we are gradually sinking in;

The water consumed our infernal flame and brought it to its end.

I cannot say I did not try, our ship I tried to mend,

and now my heart is slowly halting, and I am helplessly drowning again.

“For better or for worse,” they said, “time will always heal;”

but that kindhearted sentiment is obtuse and just unreal.

When the storm begins to wreak its havoc and the ship begins to rock,

it is in the best interest of everyone to up anchor and head to the dock.