"A Call For Truce"

O Night, cursed be you, for yours is a scheme most vile—
Were your offenses to be numbered, the list would run a mile;
The Book of Mem'ries isn't meant to be read for pleasure,
Yet on the stage of dreams you dealt it out as hard measure...
You turned loss into a love scene, as only a jester could;
You rejuvenated hope, but that doesn't mean you should!
Love is gone, don't you know? it's time to take your last bow
We were there, remember? We can't ever go back now.