His love is like the streaks of golden rays
That filter though the leaves
On quiet summer days.
There and not there yet
A myriad picture of sunshine and shadows.
His love is like the cool gust of wind
That blows through your hair
In the scorching month of June.
Sudden, cold and yet comforting
A fleeting moment of heaven gone in an instant.
His love is like first drops of rain
On barren, broken land.
Appeasing the thirst and springing hope
That a flower too can bloom
On abandoned territories.
His love is like the calm water
Tranquil on surface but that run deep.
Filled with chaos and turmoil.
The kind of madness that you need
To maintain your sanity.
His love.
His love.
A paradox of longing and loneliness.
A poignant painting
Coloured with his goodbyes and tears.
His smiles and my awkward fears.
His love.
A poem of darkness and light.
Of morning sunshine and starry night.
His love.
Everything I want
A blue lace and a white dress.
Rough words and soft caress,
A song of romance rooted in hopelessness.
His love.
A lesson in heartbreak
But a masterpiece none the less!
