Destruction after consummation because only the intimate can be destroyed, otherwise everything is line reeling without tension: The emptiness of endeavoring without reward is time wasted; not even love should be so self-deprecatingly, and unlovingly, selfless.
"...Will our children find us again,
like we found each other."
Only if we light the way, brother.
I'm not sure, but sometimes poetry is a good change and fits the sentiment.