“If I can have what I want then I’d have the stars the moon, the skies and a love where it shines through your eyes.”

I warned you not to play with matches but you said you loved the heat. Darling, the inferno warms you but it spreads like wildfire. Now, we’re both in ruins.

Even though he is not mine I wish him a heart fully made & even though, to my love he is blind for him my love will never fade.

Tease me over & again, moon over my night a meteor-like allure strike through my heart.

Stay with me in this inferno and together we’ll watch the world burn.

If this should end in fire come, fill this desire.

It is not the world I fear but what becomes of me; when you disappear so understand it is you I cannot sacrifice with you in my life-I’ll suffice.

If you are a painter my love, then I will be your writer.

Tell me about the city you grew up in, how you like to take your tea let me see the world through your eyes; be the muse to my literacy.

In the cold you left me, that is how my love for you came to be.

You shall have all that is in this garden.

I loved you as Icarus loved the sun, too close, too much.

I want a love that meets me half way. A love filled with chivalry as if it were written in old days.

Who am I to write about love when I don’t know the very definition of it, It seems, love itself does not favor me.

In each passing day, I hope I love you less but somehow this love stays and my heart is yours nonetheless.

This spring along with flowers, I hope you bloom as my love has, one season too soon.

For the rest of my life I will stay by his side. A union this world could never divide.

Touch you with no skin only with my eyes speak with no words only with my mind.

A million ways I have pondered upon what your eyes convey -but this time, I wouldn’t. -There is beauty in stillness.

Follow the path that forces your soul to glow and your heart to shine through your eyes.

The self-assured believer is a greater sinner in the eyes of God than the troubled disbeliever.

Your eyes tell a story and I long to complete it.

When I turn my mind’s eye upon myself, I understand that I am a thing which is incomplete and dependent on another and which aspires without limit to ever greater and better things…

If I were to wish for anything, I should not wish for wealth and power, but for the passionate sense of the potential, for the eye which, ever young and ardent, sees the possible.

I want those forehead to forehead moments with eyes closed deeply. So deeply that the world disappears and every scent of you leaves an imprint on my mind.