Eyes like fresh honey glistening in the sun,
Yet piercing like the sting of a bee.
A laugh that sounds like keys of the ivory on a grand piano,
Yet sour of an untuned one.
The love that could conquer a million battles,
But swift like a blade piercing the heart.
A voice that of an angel
The one who’ll carry me from my grave once this is over.
Movement like the wind on a spring day,
Threatening to transition to a tornado.
This love is dangerous but exciting,
Exactly like a tightrope.