There's a tight rope laid in front of me
I've been balancing for some time
Never moving just waiting
But I can wait no more
And neither can you
To fall or to walk
The decision is mine
I've been waiting for so long
For a gust of wind to *******
To decide for me
But this is my life
And faith is for the weak

Retrieve the passion thou shared.
Good sir indeed.
Pray show thyself as keen in action.
Ridicule the lady not.
The lady of seasons bears a perpetual gift.
Yours for eternity.
An honest emerald, captured from a den of thieves.
For the woman sighs.
Crying quietly unto her handkerchief,
Created of distressed lace.
The lady carries but a precious cargo.
A freight ne'er to become forgot.
Madame is a beauty, a butterfly of carbon made.
Her character build of moorland stone.
She weeps daily for you.
Before your child be born.
But her lord is sadly gone.
(C) LIVVI