Some things are worth fighting for
Her beauty is misunderstood but not by me.
This love was his to cradle
When hope is a rainbow, where love is a window (I love him my whole soul)
Simply a sweet micro-rhyme.
Memories are fleeting but forever
There's an entire universe in his gaze which heals my wounds and all...
She if often misunderstood for being a storm when she is simply a rainbow after one.
dreams of you
The moon and I, clothed in our own light, outcasts from the sun. We share a similar delight, that is of course the night. Alone, yet one. © Delia Ross. 2019