how could i forget bout Love
even though i don't know this word u speak of
i feel it in my spirit
my weak core craves it
depraved of it
almost numb to it
but for some reason i know its real
my heart you steal
sealing it with
just a kiss is the deal
but I'm hungry for your stylo
write it in the middle
of the night
in the beginning of the morning
Ill make breakfast while True Love is snoring

new journeys heal old wounds
even if it is a climb out the hole of a tomb
clearing the last bit of high from the extinguishing fumes
realizing maybe there is no doom
and hope can be seen even in a silver moon
pulling like a tide but missing the sun rise
or maybe just missing my eyes
the pair with forgotten cries
and lost blind sights
i wonder if these are a brand new pair of wise?