You have been weighed,

You have been found wanting,

But then, so am I,

Not quite what I am supposed to be,

It would appear I am like the rest,

A disappointment no doubt,

But still, not to be put aside lightly,

So let confusion reign,

Or ignore it if you like.

Straight lines, those tracks to which we hobble our lives,

Are bent out of shape

And a maelstrom of ambiguity prevails,

No single path on which to step,

No rung of a ladder to climb,

Or course of action to take,

Inaction and stalemate,

Comfortable bed fellows never make,

Unlike our bodies, which demand to be entwined.

Quite how this was contrived I cannot say,

But as surely as a wave will break,

This is our time, this time around at least,

Yet on the turn of the tide,

The ocean will reclaim its errant child,

That's probably for the best,

For you have been weighed,

You have been found wanting,

But then, so am I.

We should make it right,

Or at least, be open to the possibility,

That we are together even when not side-by-side,

Yet night after night,

Or, looked at another way,

Day after day,

We prevaricate,

Until we find,

There is nothing left to decide.

So goodbye my love,

We will make the world an image of our design next time,

Or this time, on another plane.

It's all so very transitory, a fixed point I cannot find.

We are but colours, splashed about to paint,

An infinite horizon on which you dance and I, well, for now, I cry.

All or nothing? We know they are same.

For the final time, this time,

Good night my love. Goodbye.