Perfectly perfect at the beginning,
Like clustered berry was the cuddle.
The love was clear as Crystal and like a bubble.
At night, the kisses whisper;
And breaks the silence of the quite room.

Then she's gone, with the moments,
Intimacy became deterred,
The closeness vanishes,
My heart was torn.
The soft cold wind feels like a blaze.

Irrespective of time and events, it still grew in me,
More love; tender and affectionate,
Forgetting all odds,
Remembering the even times,
When I had played to her tune.

Here she is, back between my arms.
Much more closer,
Much more tighter with the cuddle,
Lust emerged uncontrollably,
More lust than love.

It was love from me;
But lust from her.
My love couldn't overcome her lust,
Her lust overode my love,
Which in turn made us lustful and gave rise to indignation.

Perfectly imperfect at the end,
She's gone, so gone again.
This time, maybe forever,
But at least imperfectly free perfectly.
What the future holds might be graceful.