Day in, day out the fights continued and she screamed, he would shout,
They sat staring at each other wondering if ever they would find a way out,
But unbearable was the pressure of that aspect called doubt,
Time persisted relentlessly, not stopping to give them space to think,
No time to relax and try to amend their broken link,
Each day felt worse, further into the quick sand they’d sink,
And the worst part of it all was that none of them was ready to stop struggling with extrication,
Which, of course only furthered their detrimental situation,
Only made them lash out at each other more, almost as if to vent out their frustration,
But all it ever did was get worse, no relief, not even a semblance of a tranquil sensation!
And he’d sit and remember how they said to each other, “Until the end my love,”
And she’d reply “…to my dying day it is you I shall have…”
But now all they could do, all he could look back and dive into,
Was the memory of what USED TO,
Now, no more is due to ensue,
At least not with how things look upon review…
And to think they had it all,
The love was steadfast and oh so strong,
Now their colossal brawls,
Were slowly yet, almost ineluctably, conquering their affections (that now seem stunted and small),
And all their tears, well, at least, all HER tears, would begin to fall,
And their heart’s knees would tremble beneath them and they’d eventually begin to crawl,
And the END they anticipated would be victim to its nemesis,
THE end, that where all ceases to exist.
But at least,
They still got to the END, in one way that is.
Yours in perpetuity,
Evans Mbora Muthee Campbell.