Oh, How Sweet It Is! Poem by Cries of Demise

To have gone through life, not on one foot, but with four.
To have traveled the roads with a body next to yours.
A restless soul was saved,
But only momentarily.
When the dust settles, revealed is incompatibility.
What do you do when love still breathes?
When the love of marsh has now become of decaying wreaths?
Such a feeling of yearn beats thy heart.
But the concomitant is artificial; is it time to depart?
Sure, we part, but indebted are we.
Once synced in harmony, now stranded at sea.
Twine is us, but no room left for error.
Bitterly, life is but a flowing river.