Bottomless Well

Untill death does pen part.

My first love, a whispered name,
A flame no earthly breath could tame.
A love, I swore, could never die,
Beneath a vast and endless sky.

So long as paper lay unfurled,
And pen could dance upon the world,
Our love, a marriage, softly spun,
Two souls in creativity made one.

From a bottomless well, the words did flow,
A constant, never-ending glow.
Each line a beauty, pure and deep,
Secrets that the muses keep.

They tumbled forth, a vibrant stream,
A boundless, captivating dream.
Until the day, when breath grows frail,
And death itself, the well runs dry and pales.