You
make it beat,
through
sour storms, swarming psyches.
Such
moodiness,
captured
in silence, asearch for ambrosia;
and
so torn, for such anxiety,
to
cuddle closely; but love is
salient,
to puncture caves, where roses
melt
for souls. We’re
stippled
with sadness, plus—serene woes,
soaring
with joys.
We
watch for growth,
to
praise for stars, found for chateaus.
We
savor magic,
lost
in grottos, to live a matinee. I push
for
deeper, to hear for groans, gnawing
flesh
for soul; but
days
are sullen, to drift a wave, to surface
through
madness.
I
love for days, to calm a squall, to witness love. Such for
vitamins,
to temper tension, traced in sorrows; but hear
for
song, where warmth ushers love, sighted with glee.
Its
prophetic, a living passion, ever aesthetic. We cull
through
darkness, to capture chaos, to calm for ripples. I
love
for nights, felt immortal, to reach crescendos. Such
is
zeal, to furnish hearts, dewey-eyed for love. I’m over
yonder,
to part for seas, walking through high tides. Oh my
beloved,
stream eternal, valiant for love. Singe not a soul,
a
bright-eyed novice, but only for love. I’m awestruck,
caught
to stammer, if only seduction. It’s most exotic, this
driving
fever, a majestic sky. We’re captivated, to flinch
from
shocks, palming rivers.
Such
for hurt, an oracle wise, a touch of glory. It’s sheer
affection,
to scribble notes, smiling—“I love us.” Oh my
beloved,
such comely love, to invoke a furnace. I’m there,
to
render peace, to soothe abyss. Its heaven, ethereal love,
chiming
throughout a psyche. We wrap for grace, to
grieve
transgression, to wrestle perdition. Our bower, to
lighten
for winds, grinning for something silly. We touch
for
light, to discern for love, mindful of struggles. I
cleave
to sunrays, to spoil heart, to toil grout. We cheer
for
love, dwelling deeply, spinning through pains.
