The dawn of true love has no setting sun.
It stoutly sits upon an ageless stone
Foundation; Paul to Corinth has condoned
The course it ought follow under the Son.
The symbolic rose that joins us as one
Will never wither, yielding not its home
To mother’s or father’s grasp. ‘Neath the dome,
Dual suicides bring one heart’s beat to none.
Perhaps they dreamed, as darkness took its hold,
Of love’s potential immortality,
Of oceans grasping frantically for shore,
As redwoods towards the heavens are so bold.
The fancy of their dream’s sweet melody
Floats like a seed upon the wind to bore.
Copyright 2003 spontaneous_insanity
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