I search in my dreams, all a glitter and aglow, looking for that one with the touch of an Angel. I flow this way and that, coming upon much, but not my sweet one. Dreaming or awake, I yearn for your touch, your presence, your kiss. Why must I toil with life on such a trivial matter as love? No, not love, true love. For I have felt love, but, although I thought I felt it, I have yet to come across that engraved and hardened, bold, everlasting true love.
I see in my mind's eye a beauty without form. I cannot take part in the reveling of such a heavenly form. For one can never truly imagine their one, true love until they find whoever that person is. A Nightingale of unrivaled beauty - both physical and not. And, upon that thought, it may be helpful to mention the context to which beauty plays. Beauty changes, beauty is immortal, beauty is..... What is beautiful to one may not be beautiful to another. However, the beauty of love is that love is beauty.
Perhaps I have no clue as to what I'm talking about. I seem to have gotten off topic and gone into something partially irrelevant. I just yearn for my love; I suppose that's my point. I apologize and will allow you to continue on with your day to day lives.
