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