He gathers his courage,
Cannot commit to telling her.

He Braves his heart,
And tells her then.

This constant heart changes each day and loves still.
And she loves too, holding his love carefully.

And they live, lives of happiness and sadness,
Just as it was meant.

New love springs,
Like roses covered in thorns.

A field of vast grass whispers in the breeze and never changes.
And these two hearts still beat together.

A love so sure,
It rules over constant hearts.

Common traits are known,
But those traits of space and the sky,
Hold infinite possibilities.

To wonder, dream, create
Advance, explore, be yourself,
And yet the times end

In a heart never moved by time

They burn the brightest when nights are darkest
And simmer to death near dawn
When two are watching them, they twinkle.
And children looking to the stars dream.

They are silent, a companion to all
But they suffer in silence
Never to experience the hope, the love, the dreams,

They watch, sparkling, silver deities
As those lovers kiss
When the child becomes great
Or when a person ends.

They suffer with no means to love those
Who watch them and dream.
Silently suffering, yet happy
Traveling into those, who yearn for freedom

They turn that suffering into a burning shine

Deep in the world, surrounded in awe
Is a cave full of music
With sounds so perfect,
It echoes forever into history.

This cave is unexplored,
Unnoticed,
Alone
To all but one.

Each person, alone or with many,
Has a cave full of music,
Echoing through their body and mind
While leaving the world void of its beauty

And a cave who is never opened out,
Is never heard
Or used
Or praised to be great.

This knot is choking me,
Dragging my throat backwards,
Keeping me from being free.
And preventing me from the goals I look toward.

Thrown into the chaos of ones life,
Boils the soul to its core.
Sometimes to heal the strife,
Other times to heal never more.

To the end of time this knot will reach,
Until we cut or hang from it.
Dive into the freedom breach,
Or swing from a rope, over a pit.

This shining mirror, black as oil,
Made from all the sweat and toil,
Of a man in a hollow so dingy and gross.
Working in sorrow and loss.

Oh how he weeps and creates beautiful things!
But his heart hurts when his hammer pings.
The sadness reflects in his gorgeous art,
But it keeps splitting his fragmented heart.

Yet he keeps working, even though he cries
Never ceasing, until he dies.
Some say his ghost still works,
And through the obsidian mirror he lurks...

Music rolls through the halls, echoing through the tunnels into the ears of those sleeping.

Come on, we must dance to these wonderful sounds!

And they dance, as the fires burn on the torches and candles.

We'll be okay, let's just head home, the world is never going to end!

The music stops and the world slows,

They kiss and tell their love, but the tunnel collapsed.

Young and in love, so cliché, don't you think so?