Snow like embers to the skin.
Been searching without and within.
Fragile as a flower start cringe.
Blinded by storm wicked dreams begin..

Then the cardinal lit the flame.
With her voice a glorious aim.
Only one of it’s kind.
Only looking forward and behind.

See this is also true of passion and love.
The kind of heaven that is sent from above.
Only way they can have love.
Is to receive what they lost, freedom of a dove.

Only one can have the gift.
They say with a grunt, a ***** gist.
They return every season.
Only for mating, a certain kind of reason.

They guide my way.
Through the storm a certain way.
Only to be left behind again.
This is the kind of love I send.