From the moment I first saw her, my soul took flight.
All darkness found in Hell and Earth
Was expelled and brought to light
As good and new as my own birth.
To be a mortal in communion with immortal King,
Love, and Girl is but a dream with such hue
As one nameless spring morning
Occupied by idle wanderings. Yet it came true!
For her I loved, the one not dead,
From when I was but a thought inside God's head.
Yet to be conceived and born of flesh and bone,
Yet to take a breath and yet her face be shown.
For till the Death of Time and past the
End of Man my love shall reign for thee;
Stronger than the grip of any Titan's fist
And truer than a hero's heart the Devil missed.
For the world, by God, was formed of love.
The same: our souls by God were fitted for
The other as a perfect silken glove
Woven for the hand of a King to adore.
'Tis the destiny of our souls to be
As the binding of the Universe;
Everlasting through the symphony
That is life, death, and verse.
Should sun cease to shine
And moon cease to glow,
What worry should be mine?
I have love upon my lady to bestow.
What purpose do they serve,
Yet to be inferior to her?
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 4:40 PM UTC
From the moment I first saw her, my soul took flight.
All darkness found in Hell and Earth
Was expelled and brought to light
As good and new as my own birth.
To be a mortal in communion with immortal King,
Love, and Girl is but a dream with such hue
As one nameless spring morning
Occupied by idle wanderings. Yet it came true!
For her I loved, the one not dead,
From when I was but a thought inside God's head.
Yet to be conceived and born of flesh and bone,
Yet to take a breath and yet her face be shown.
For till the Death of Time and past the
End of Man my love shall reign for thee;
Stronger than the grip of any Titan's fist
And truer than a hero's heart the Devil missed.
For the world, by God, was formed of love.
The same: our souls by God were fitted for
The other as a perfect silken glove
Woven for the hand of a King to adore.
'Tis the destiny of our souls to be
As the binding of the Universe;
Everlasting through the symphony
That is life, death, and verse.
Should sun cease to shine
And moon cease to glow,
What worry should be mine?
I have love upon my lady to bestow.
What purpose do they serve,
Yet to be inferior to her?
