A word call love,
It's like a dream.
Reminded me of doves,
Or a scheme.
On my gloves,
There is a beam.
I feel above,
My own bloodstream.
Rising upward,
Like the sun.
Or maybe outwards,
From above.
My heart goes out,
But I am done,
This lovely rhyme,
Is now a crime.
A crime that needs,
Needs to end.
To be fulfilled,
Or be rebuild.
Bye, bye for now,
These ashen days.
A word call love,
Is in my veins.
