My hearts garden has been blessed with a songbird!

She sings of passion, lust, beauty even in the misshapen, and the remorse behind evils.

All men hunt for this bird...prized trophy.

Yet she is as unstoppable as a train against a slight gust.

Then i must become a hurricane, and derail these pestering thoughts, let me sleep despite her perfect song. Allow me to rid her from my mind.

Impossible when ALL description is to her, an insult.

To call this canary beautiful?... a gross simplification.

The song she sings of is peace...hope. Sung lovingly, with such passion there is none left for her own.

So then I'll let her have my hope. They live in her anyhow.

I'll give her my peace. It was in her I was taught it... From her simplicity, and fire. from her contriteness, she is vulnerable.

This, i can give her.

So it is an equal trade then? My unrequited, and her passion?

hardly....Everything couldnt compensate for her presence...

My words, my lungs, my soul..nothing... for even one kiss.

-with love