If a bell tolls...
For whom, is a lover known?
Threshold to act upon weary eyes, oh you soul
The creation we find, in void moments sown...
A rue of compassion
The till in evidential hills
Sun and wine, to tell a tale to promises lasting...
A herald of simple gifts and rises of poise, will
Lovers to the end
Exactly need, in voice's portrayal
And seeking guidance for a named lip, here is mend
In the scope of distance and reality of a soul
Succinctly new?
And with sense's favors, to claim a richness of good...
In the speed we accredit to love, is worth a filial who?
Seeing the gesture bloomed, is fate acts or paces, new?
Heed me when the holiday is over, lover
Might's to consider a whole, if a liberty is to be
The thought of romance, is a changing season, meant dour
In the shared seldom, of when a passion has it, to lead...
A fruit of conscience
A hap of solace, predestined to same
A reason of couth, to collect a hardier presence
A wish of blessing the best you have to often, and the patience of fame
