Two made the clap happenOne got to be it's heir
The deed was done in a pair
Still one got it's complete share
The fruit became a rotten waste
Over the years it lost it's pleasant taste
It was like a storm approached a cozy place
Destroyed everything there was in haste
Though permanent ruts were made,
memories were the only active part ending up as useless as bones in a grave
The prophecy went insanely wrong
and neither was the intuition too strong
The sufferer still sees good,
while she broods,
for when she conflates it all,
she feels the years were'nt bad after all :)
