Wednesday, February 6, 2008

The morning dew

Fallen leaves gracefully dance beneath the blue skies
never losing that splendor on the earth's mortal floor.

Holding hands at night, two souls walk a thousands miles,
until the moon sleeps, until thine lips taste the morning dew.

The arrogance of knowledge, squalid in its evil ways,
those harsh mortal questions make kings leave in haste .

Yet, fear not my lady, for the greatest love story of all,
is not of the mighty, not of the strong, but of the weak!