When those moments be untimed to find more than those within the racetracks of your mind and on the brows as yet unlined,
is true love truly blind?
A scent,a rose,the bouquet underneath,who knows the paths that man will take to make the match,
but catch the flavour,savour well,we dwell but shortly here then disappear to find more moments, yet untimed as we ourselves are redefined,and the question still upon my mind,
is true love truly blind?