Broken fences surround a falling house.
Much like trust betrayed, in the crumbling edifice of a love unfound.
Foundations creak, as lies and half truths, dominate a narrative that borders on illusion.
Hatred dominates as uncompromising positions take root. Neither willing to bend, neither prepared to accept.
How did this come to pass. The fence was repaired and painted just the other day. The gloss somehow faded so fast. For beneath the veneer, lay deception.
Tendrils of suspicion snaked through every act, every spoken word. Gnawing it's way to erode the very genesis of trust. Faith suffered.
Mending the fence became a habit and the habit became cruel. Countless shades of pretences surfaced. Camouflaging reality again and again.
Yet life moved on, within the fences, that surrounded the falling house. Today there is silence. An act of finality. The fence no longer is broken.
It's just not there anymore.
