Sole Languish Not
Bestow him the means to bloom
Set free his captive heart,
From the dangers of wilt
From the perils of guilt,
Hardened heart traps,
Rotted soul snares
Troubled eye glares
He shall believe in your beauty
Setting fires to your infinity
He toils and turns to you
Bestow her the means to bloom
Prove to her the sure science of Love
Give her reason to return in your arms
Hold her to your story
Voice the untold allegory
From the fate of death,
Quench her eyes with
Blessed beams of divinity
She will reassure your doubts
What remains cannot break her
The torrents of turbulence are ceaseless
The nights of woe are sacred and ageless
You are endless in them alone
You are complete in them together
A collaboration with David W. Breidenthal
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