Her hair like brown lace makes my soul gasp,
To my mind her words are like a honeyed kiss,
In euphoria my heart is drenched in this bliss,
Unclenching the iron hold of misery's grasp.

Our spirits embrace in hopes to forever entwine,
A love we've found as transparent as the softest glass,
That we nurture fondly with whispers of, "Do not pass,"
For we've found utopia in a, "Will you always please be mine?"

This is an affliction for which not even death can deter,
Because on the the other side I'll be there and you'll be near,
Facing the unknown with no knowledge of fear,
And the echos of my smile shall always say, "Forever her."