Tis' the season
Might, the doors of fruition
Back, and found forward, a reason
To tell the world in special eyes, our intuition?

Is the coy exaction your looking at...
Tomorrow, and favors of since, we are the light...
In a frightened eye, the whole harboring for keeping what
Is a mind to sake another more, with the chaste we might...?

Patience, in long bared discussion
To keep the letter of lack, of a certain treatise to give
If how and mention, see the rise of intrusion...
Of our simplicity to find, another direction lest we live?

Cold recognition for the beauty of in we win, and now host, out
With but a press of liberty, we tell the worth to each other...
For a call to suddenness, the fresh idea of us...? the news, the pout
Of a home with you to name, the very image of passion with it to openly bother?