I think of you more than a person who has struggled to the ferocious and deepest breadth of inferno.
My contemplation of you has always been so high up, with the betterment of a paradise turning into a seventh heaven for such treatment you have been putting onto other people ever so softly.
You have been scathed and forced in spite...
But if I promise, but still with a tinge of compromise, will you still graze my hand and follow the passionate wisp of my mumbles?
I think you are to be loved and that the love you preserve should be always for yourself to keep the tormentors of yours spell-bound with kindness.
I think of you more than my lover.
You are love itself.
YOU ARE READING
to my future love.
PoetryHave you ever felt the depths of your heart have its groundbreaking display to ever grace the world? It goes with the gentle zephyr to linger within every skip of the lonesome soul, every waltz of such faint fingertips, and every exaltation of sweet...
