I had barely finished drying my tears and you were already dancing with another...

Time for space and the gifted laments;
Of tears and tantrums not readily forgotten,
And the wants and needs of fools that bathe in the sun.

It was too good to be true.
Too shortly lived and too often mistaken;
The drama of sparks too intense to be burnt out.

Freedom was heard desired by the playful;
The unknown path of risks and fears,
Too stuck to the past to assume a present role.

So distance was forced by the single word,
And passive hatred in between a pool of disillusions;
Cried the river that flowed into an empty abyss.

Fake tears were falling through the nights,
While remorse was indulged in the eve of days;
And who could be to blame for its sudden indecision
Simply to realize the desires of unburdened infidelity.

The heartache,
The disillusion,
The stages of mental revolution.
All part of the well played game.

In the end, you were just like any other.