Memories of discord speak in the insect air
A breath too hot for comfort, a grating, angry stare
This summer was too short for us, September brings us pain
A lack of understanding means we will not speak again.

Lost hours spent in solitude with only inward thoughts
We meditate too harshly on the misery we've wrought
Destroyed each other subtly, our love has crashed and burned
In time the insect air will clear, revealing what we've learned.