I fell in love, yet to know your name.
I first saw you, and since then I never felt the same.
The moment our eyes met; the beginning of our story has been decided.
First chapter, we were both after each other.
Running in circles, introduced each self to one another.
Second chapter, we both started to wonder.
As the page turns, our heart both burns, asking “Do you love me? What really are we?” in concern.
More chapters have gone by, rules of love we started to defy, as we slowly became more love high.
Fifth chapter, some conflict starts to occur, it made our ending seem to blur.
Confusion starts to reoccur as we progress more further.
Sixth Chapter, our love started to shatter as we grow farther from each other.
Chapter seven to nine, our story became harder to define.
It started feeling like I was just another one in line.
Tenth chapter, I began to ponder,
“Are we really ending this here? Are you really sure about this, dear?”
You stayed silent as I shed a tear.
You walked away like you never actually cared, like this is something so easy to bear.
It’s the last chapter, and I’m still in denial.
“Would she pick up the phone if I try and dial?”
The fact that I’m crying over the person whom I used to cry to, makes me wanna cry even more.
I glued-up the pages that you tore, hoping we can go back and live those moments once more.
Our story might have come to its end, but my journey is yet to continue.
It was so nice to have met you, but forgetting about you was even nicer.
About love I became wiser; I no longer need a pied piper.