So ...

So love arrests development

and the bridges it once built

are washed away by all the rain

falling o’er the earth’s terrain.

So we think to re-enact the scene

and build again the past

but the weariness and wariness

like winter halts all growth.

So caught in this outrageous state

time marches on sans music

and musicians of the heart banished

into the realms of silence.

So we think to call them back again

but time spent has stolen skills

and instruments have rusted

in the void of nought to do.

So then, what then?  I’ve no idea

how growth can come again

when arrested all are we

by love not meant to be!