In response to 'Wiress_Tick_tock's' "Love":
It is the fire of a thousand suns,
None compare to the love of one,
Love is nought but heaven on earth;
It is the god’s love, which gives it its worth,
Silence for days; passion for another,
We are defined, by the hate of lovers,
Love sung, from ancient bands,
Wrapped forever around our fingers, forever at demand,
From the furthest shadow, to the northern lights,
We are lovers, entangled, utmost entwined,
Intrepid fingers, wrapped on ancient lines,
In our hands, our faces; in our desperate lives.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry and Lyrics
PoezjaAll self - written. Feedback please? :) © All Rights Reserved.