All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.

Baby if you call me at 4 am,
Too sad to even say hello,
I will listen to your sadness,
Until you fall asleep.

It's truly
a
chaotic
thing
to
suddenly
see

starlight,
heaven,
and
everything

in someone's eyes