My walls are thick and dusty but he's breaking through
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