In the heart of the tower, where plants held sway,
A father and daughter, in their own special way.
Amidst the greenery, in that secret nook,
They wove tales and dreams from a beloved book.
Their connection, a metaphor of love’s own design,
In the tower’s solitude, they would intertwine.
The stones bore witness to their shared delight,
As they stargazed together through the night.
The tower, cloaked in vines, like fatherly protection,
Sheltered his daughter from life’s imperfection.
The blossoms, akin to her laughter and grace,
In their green sanctuary, they would find their space.
Yet, life’s relentless march was hard to evade,
As the tower aged, their happiness began to fade.
The vines grew thicker, the tower’s stones cracked,
Their time together dwindled, and they lost track.
With the tower’s deterioration, so did their bond,
Their hearts felt the fracture, the love was gone.
As they grappled with change and withered dreams,
Their bond started to unravel at the seams.
Their tower, once a haven, now a somber place,
Echoing with memories, both joy and displace.
The vines that had protected, now held them apart,
Their love diminished, like a fading work of art.
In the heart of the tower, a melancholy scene,
A father and daughter, torn by what could’ve been.
Their story, like the tower, once so tall,
Now crumbled and overgrown, a sad farewell to all.
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