As we make this journey,
through happiness and melancholy,
living through each day,
writing further, our story,
meeting and greeting,
fighting and loving.

But this heart of mine,
is too fickle.
Often finds itself,
in a terrible pickle.
Loved one, then another,
to love again,
to push further.

Oh my beating heart,
let you beat till the day I die.
Let me not settle down,
If so be it, make me cry.
Make me live all emotions,
spread over my skin like magic potions,
and then sleep.

Oh deep slumber, I long
for your caress.
till then, let me live,
with every duress.