Two figures of desire mourn beside the river of hope,

both pray to see the light.

Both reaching out to touch a helpful rope,

but come out with only air in their hands. 

It's a classic trope.

Two souls too engrossed in their own sorrow,

To try and find a person to help them cope.

Yet both pray for a better life. 

Two figures of desire mourn beside the river of despair, 

Both look up to see the other,

Never knowing they were there. 

Memories of their imagination embrace under the sky. 

Never have they seen something so rare,

A person like them, 

Caught in despair. 

Young souls turning to the unseen light,

Maybe it was worth the fight.