Svelte innuendos silhouette sweet scenes across my mind. Like playscripts begging practice, someday, sometime.

Rare is a moment that you would want to live as a lifetime. Rarer is the person to spend it with.

Never a sweeter love is it than that recieved by one so sweetly loved.

Our future together is like a paint by numbers. Don't loose sight of the lines, pick your brush, pick your colors.

All I can do is give a heavy sigh and walk away, memories in hand and sad ending written.

When the clouds steal away the full moon light. Have you ever heard the crashing waves respond with silence?

Such cruelties are found in the taxation of one's heart and soul, all for naught.

Trully sad are those people that define life by tragedies of their own devise.

Vessels of virtue and vice, standing to my either sides, lead me not where I will me to go, but there I will be, with all that I need and I know.