Frerard.

They stand alone;
in the whirl of black tides
ripping them apart.

It is the darkness, swearing
and leering at the edge of the
world. It is flat as paper

or a computer screen.
Their love is non-existent
in the calm exterior or reality

but in the folds of paper and of
ones and zeros, I take heed
of a romantic lost world.

I could not understand at first
I could not portray
the true strength of love

that has left their hearts and opened
mine to it. It is innate and it stirs
my senses to extremes

to even think of it.
A love like that is a pain
in the soul.