You and me 

Are two parallel lines. 

We can't unite, 

We can't unite, 

Perhaps the destiny 

Has fixed our bad luck 

For eras and eras. 

When 

We try to become 

Curved lines 

To have the cusp, 

We are denied, 

We are made to run parallel, 

We are made to be separate. 

We can see each other, 

But 

We can't trust for a result. 

We can see each other, 

But 

We can't mingle with each other. 

Yes, 

Destiny has become a despot

To make us 

Perennial parallel lines

And 

We run breathless 

And aimless.