Fault in Love

A tender heart, a whispered sigh, Beneath a wide and hopeful sky. We drew so close, a gentle art, Before the fault began to start. It wasn't malice, sharp and deep, No wicked secrets it would keep. Just like a note a bit off-key, A quiet, soft disharmony. Perhaps a word that went unsaid, A fragile thought inside the head. Or looking close, two different ways, Through sunny, or through cloudy days. A tiny crack, you barely see, That widens slow, for you and me. A shadow falls across the bright, And dims a little, love's soft light. It pulls a thread within the weave, A quiet sorrow, we believe. The perfect picture, gently blurred, By just a single, fragile word. So love still lives, with all its grace, But bears that subtle, aching space. A silent truth, both kind and deep, The gentle faults that our hearts keep.