She was oasis to my desert,
A sun of hope to my heart.
The whispers of affection,
A red whinny ink unto my pen.
A freedom of a prisoner,
My nightingale, a beautiful listener.
A bunch of words to my poetry,
A poem decorated with imagery.
She was moonlight in my darkness,
A balm of solace to my distress.
The echoes of sweet devotion,
A golden sonnet in constant motion.
A liberty to my captive soul,
Making broken hearts whole.
She is verses in my rhyme,
An art painted with over time.
She was the calm before the storm,
A rainbow after the rain has worn.
The anchor in my stormy sea,
A melody in the chaos, wild and free.
The heavenly muse that fueled my art,
A beating rhythm in my lonely heart.
She was a sunrise after the night,
A haven where everything felt right.
But, now a water to flaming fire,
A faulty, busted, twisted wire.
A colorless resistor to my current,
A cloudy fade unto my Crescent.
The cut of furious and sharp knife.
Fearful archangel' kiss to my life,
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