Don’t quite know where this one came from either.
Let’s just say that I should probably be working for Hallmark.
Maybe not. . .
There’s a quiet place in my heart
that echoes your voice. . .
A crimson room filled with but the thought of you, the scent of you; a lasting obsession with the frosted emerald soul windows that seem to fill me with the purest of light, the light of you
the warm radiance slowly melts away an impossible cerulean ice sealing the doorway as it dissolves into a rushing river, seeking the waiting serenity of the harbour, the comfort of you
With troubled waters safely behind me, I see you walking the shore
waiting, like you always do. . .
for my soul to come back home
And I always do
*for the one with the ‘emerald‘ eyes…