New Jeanland

We met like sparks that struck and burned,
a bitter dance, no peace to earn.
Your words were blades, your gaze a snare,
a tempest born from what we dared.

But hate gave way to something more,
a fleeting truce, a fragile shore.
Your hand brushed mine—too much, too fast—
we built a love not meant to last.

Each kiss we shared, a battle won,
each touch, a war we’d just begun.
The wounds we hid beneath the glow,
returned in ways we’d always know.

Now here we stand, the bond undone,
our hearts as distant as the sun.
Yet still, your name ignites my soul—
a love destroyed, a foe made whole.

Enemies, lovers, and enemies still,
we are the fire no time can kill.