by taichi » Wed Apr 27, 2016 1:26 am
You make me wait, you make my heart ache. I like that.
It seems an impossible to task to now picture you in a residence that is not by my side, that. That I do not like.
I want you to be in reach, so that I can place the finest of necklaces around your neck, crafted by the greatest jeweller.
The rich crimson colours of only a pure heart, confined in a small ruby, the perpetual links between you and I making up the delicate chain.
This gift, I would give to you again and again, but for I cannot, and only what I can present you with is my heart, my soul, something that others have deemed themselves to take, but you are the one who stole it.
Effortlessly you took it, snatched it up like it was your property, to tear it and romp it, I fear the most, but to live in fear with somebody that I adore, it does not make the finest of wines.
For only I am to hope we tail the finest clothes, mix the finest wines, taste the most bitter but sickly sweet sugars.
If not, if all is lost, then I shall live with myself in a despair, one that will always cling on to me, but not one that will prevent my advance.
For we do not hope for that outcome, and we only hope for the sun to dance in between us both.