It was a sprout of love,
Which was build upon a dove.
You could not see it anywhere,
But inside your heart elsewhere.
It was a feeling of eternity,
But to feel it you needed integrity.
It could march upon the land of barren,
And turn it into the utopian manhattan.
The flowers of the love sow in your heart,
Get flown out to the field of heaven lot.
Hearing your voice,
Would be a great path to the land of heaven to rejoice.
With just having the thought of yours,
Would give me a trip to midnight york.
Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 4:42 AM UTC
It was a sprout of love,
Which was build upon a dove.
You could not see it anywhere,
But inside your heart elsewhere.
It was a feeling of eternity,
But to feel it you needed integrity.
It could march upon the land of barren,
And turn it into the utopian manhattan.
The flowers of the love sow in your heart,
Get flown out to the field of heaven lot.
Hearing your voice,
Would be a great path to the land of heaven to rejoice.
With just having the thought of yours,
Would give me a trip to midnight york.