Her face is like a poem Her heart a willow tree Bending softly in the moonglow Beating always for me She’s the bell in my distance The hearth at home With me everywhere Even when I’m alone In the desert she is water She’s the forest and the trees Everything she is to me Everything
You deserve a better version of me, I'm merely existing; constantly drowning myself in Bourbon whiskey. I've been baptized by my demons, chastised with the heathens, yet I'm blessed to have you on standby; patiently waiting in the Garden of Eden.