You said, "The mold will hold"
But other events did yet unfold
And so, my joy sank to grief
Just as Frost's last gold leaf
Did wither and die
When laughter waned to heavy sigh...

Yet, you said, "The mold will hold"
And so, I hoped it would still last
Even as I wondered in what medium, the frame was cast?
Was it of solid Iron, whole, seasoned, and seamless?
What mayhap caused the fissure? Perhaps, extreme stress
Upon its base?
I do yet ponder on what spasm
Caused the chasm in our case...

Yet, you said, "The mold will hold"
But was it made of clay?
Were the contents too heavy
And so, did, eventually, outweigh
Its form?
Could it just not... "weather the storm?"
Please, pray tell, what glue might seal it
So that together, we two might heal it
Is it, truly, irrevocably cracked, fractured and shattered?
Or did I wrongly think our "creation" was all that mattered?

But, you said, "The mold will hold."