Drifting waves.
And her voice,
on the endless tide.

Warm hands.
And soft kisses.
Our names in the sand.

The scent of spring.
Our eyes like butterflies,
never far apart.

Her hair,
the colors of autumn.
And the scent of spice.

This passion,
born of fire.
For she is light.
An end to all that is evil.

Er zijn nog geen reacties.

Meld je gratis aan om ook reacties te kunnen plaatsen