Fateful

Of the swallows that flew the air of your eyes, only the memories remain.
In my life there is only one fateful hope to live the illusion adrift.
The inclement abode of sadness tore the eyes of the beautiful joy leaving a wake of abandonment where before the divine joy reined.
The subtle violin no longer intones the beautiful music that once accompanied the romantic dinners in the light of the moon. Now I have that moon and that violin playing farewell music.