This dream would not be so melancholy.

Two minds collide,
yours and mine,
how we try to define these feelings inside.

I’ll fated this outcome it seems. A tragedy.

If only you were and if only I were, in a time we both could be, this dream would no be so melancholy.

Alas, ’tis not so.

The tragedy of two, me and you.

Yet, in wayward thoughts, I think of you: a danger looms. There lies a loyalty in you undefined. A hidden weakness I see inside.
It comes to me in dreams, my heart it does consume: In my time of most need, when I cannot think or bearly breath. Will you hold me close instead, or your weakness my soul decide?

For that is a mind I should be weary.

A tragedy is what I see before me.

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