The shoulders of your throne, so sit and cross yourselves.
Raise your head, above all earthly selves.
Pride shines bright upon your brow,
For humble hearts know little now.

This is my heart, I laid it down,
Upon the path of your renown.
If it should weep, or cry in pain,
Feel no sorrow, it will rise again.

Not pain it cries, but tenderness,
Beneath the feet that I confess,
Hold all my loyalty and grace.
I love the pride upon your face.

Advise me not to let it go,
Forbid such words, and watch it grow.
Each cell within me starts to hum,
When your approaching footsteps come.

Your walking here, an honored tread,
Deprive it not, or it is dead.
No mercy show to longing eyes,
A look, a smile, a subtle guise.

Walk onward, do not turn away,
For they will follow, come what may.
I fear for them, not for myself,
Your powerful steps, like precious wealth.

You are the Queen, so rule with might,
And take our loyalty as your right.
Without an army, you still reign,
Our hearts beseech you, ease our pain.

Torment us with your beauty's sting,
Know that denial deeper things.
Your judgment, fair or not, I crave,
Your sweet content is all I save.

Consult your heart, and only it,
Let love's own counsel be your wit.
The fairest roses bloom anew,
From every step you take, it's true.

Choose what you wish, a fragrant prize,
And give to me, before my eyes,
A single rose, however brief,
To cherish through my joy and grief.

The lover pampers, then withholds,
Demanding more than stories told.
My heart, in chains, I can't deny,
I call to him, he passes by.

And I amazed, my heart so strong,
Softens to him, although so wrong.
It endures, though free, it's true,
But it submits, only to you.

Not wood or bone, but something root
Deep in the earth, a magic thing,
That makes the listening spirit sing.

Each note he plays, a hidden door,
To memories we knew before.
A happy laugh, a tear that fell,
Stories the heart remembers well.

The sound, it washes clean and bright,
Like sunbeams chasing away the night.
It calls to feelings, lost and found,
Safe in the flute's enchanted sound.

He plays it true, he plays it clear,
Wipes away all doubt and fear.
A simple song, a gentle breeze,
That rustles softly through the trees.

Let your own heart become the flute,
Let love and kindness bear their fruit.
Then all the world will understand,
The magic held within your hand.

Made swirls and lines, a crazy trick.
Not pictures neat, of birds or trees,
Just messy marks upon his knees.

The rain came down, a heavy weep,
For vanished souls, gone to their sleep.
It fed the grief that grew inside,
Where willow branches, deep did hide.

He hushed his pride, kept still and low,
And called to God, in gentle flow.
He called and called, with burning heart,
Until it felt it fall apart.

A whisper came, a light so bright,
"Your peace is veiled from common sight.
Only a love, so strong and true,
Can find the quiet, kept for you."

Given form, a breathing whole,
Lord's gift, body and soul.

This frame, it bends, it starts to fade,
Life's journey, a weathered parade.

But deep inside, a light remains,
The soul, it sings, it entertains.

It knows no time, no worldly stain,
Forever pure, a constant lane.

The choice is yours, where love will lie,
To fleeting flesh, or spirit's cry?

I stopped loving on that day,
When I saw the wall that lay
Between the vows and love’s delight,
Locked in war by day and night.

Love arrives and the ring departs,
A wedding breaks the tender hearts.
A cruel exchange, a bitter trade,
A promise bent, a dream unmade.

I stopped loving when I learned
How joy is bought and trust is burned;
It gives, it takes, yet leaves you bare,
The gold is gone, the weight still there.

I stopped loving, for I knew
My sun and storm were theirs to choose.

A fragile thread, too weak, too thin,
To bind my heart, or hold me in.

She spoke of silver in my hair,  
A tarnished crown she couldn’t bear.  
If grief has painted strands with time,  
Then moons must fault for nights sublime.  

Each tear I shed spoke of my loss,  
Each dream a wake beneath its gloss.  
Reprove my truth? Oh, let it stay,  
We’ll echo dusk, both turned to gray.

Love isn't just a sweet soft kiss,
Nor how many times you feel such bliss.
It's not the touch that quickly ends,
Or fleeting comfort that it lends.

True love's a warmth that softly stays,
Through quiet nights and busy days.
A gentle echo, deep and true,
Long after the sweet kiss is through.

It lives within, a tender glow,
A quiet river's steady flow.
This gentle feeling, deep and vast,
Is made to last, forever last.