Your magnificence drifts through my mind
like smoke through cathedral arches,
pulling me gently, endlessly,
into a serenity with no shore.
How I wish these trembling hands
could sculpt whole worlds from starlight —
to lay them at your feet
like offerings at a forgotten altar.
For you deserve the heavens entire,
and every sacred thing that breathes within them,
every hymn the cosmos hums
in the spaces between silence.
Oh, how I would rise to oppose
the celestial bard himself —
to spin from nothing
ethereal melodies so tender
the universe would pause
and lean in close to listen.
It is by grace alone
that love like yours takes form,
like dawn bleeding softly
through the membrane of the dark.
Each constellation opens its mouth
and lifts a song into the infinite —
and every star that wounds the night with light
holds a tale of you,
luminous, unending,
waiting since before time
to finally be told.
Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 10:58 PM UTC
Your magnificence drifts through my mind
like smoke through cathedral arches,
pulling me gently, endlessly,
into a serenity with no shore.
How I wish these trembling hands
could sculpt whole worlds from starlight —
to lay them at your feet
like offerings at a forgotten altar.
For you deserve the heavens entire,
and every sacred thing that breathes within them,
every hymn the cosmos hums
in the spaces between silence.
Oh, how I would rise to oppose
the celestial bard himself —
to spin from nothing
ethereal melodies so tender
the universe would pause
and lean in close to listen.
It is by grace alone
that love like yours takes form,
like dawn bleeding softly
through the membrane of the dark.
Each constellation opens its mouth
and lifts a song into the infinite —
and every star that wounds the night with light
holds a tale of you,
luminous, unending,
waiting since before time
to finally be told.
