~ I love thee with a love that shall not die ~
till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old ~
~ William Shakespeare ~
We are but mortals with uncertain destiny at the mercy of time and of fates that be but dearest, I'll remain forever true to thee For tis you I shall love, I avowal faithfully I shall hold you close unto my soft breast press my warm lips to thine at your behest croon thee to slumber when in need of rest bathe you in the sea's waves as they crest Though death may blazon to me at night shackled, we shall be in chains held tight n 'ere shall I be enticed far from thy sight nay, no grave ever be our dividing blight No reaper's scythe shall keep you from me from this heart of mine thy shan't be free as rooted fast in Earth's richest soil, a tree ere our hearts be entwined for all eternity.
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