Error: Perfect.

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The most intricate braid that only lives until its untied

The delicate froth of coffee that still lingers on the emptied cup

That one loud friend of the protagonist -

blurred, muted, and scooted aside in moments that matter the most.

The liked but never chosen one; the one that's too much or just not enough.

The unwavering slope between the peaks and the trough.

The best that's never bought..

The unsaid that's never sought..

Has to be mere luck or sheer randomness,

Or a biased God who made this mess.

Why else would the sun give its light to the moon 

just to be loathed for its extremeness?

-_-

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