Day has passed with little to write,
The quill of the writer is at its crash,
Little does the writer know the quill has lost its touch.
Day by Day he writes,
With the ink barely enough,
Only to find that the quill is at its last.
Daybreak is at nigh,
Yet the writer\'s heart pleads for more
The writer\'s mind begs for time
And the writer\'s hand is at rest.
The writer continues to write his story,
Till the last strand of the quill he writes and writes.
For the story isn\'t yet done,
And the longing of his heart is at nigh.
Love and Adornment by the writer,
He himself is the judge of his story.
He sees the love within the pages,
While i see the love within her eyes.
Together and both quill and heart,
I as the writer, set my heart upon you.
For my love is at nigh,
and the story hasn\'t yet been completed.
As the writer understands his story,
I understand your heart and mind,
And as the writer knows his thoughts,
I know your longing and adornment.
Love beneath the pages of the story,
Our love is yet to bloom and prosper,
Yet in your eyes i see a million stars,
Gazing within the night light of your deep brown eyes, i exclaimed
\"Beautiful is the nightingale across the field of thousands of plains\"
You my dear will forever be my love,
I am the writer, with my book and quill,
Ink and strength, I\'ll forever write.
For i am a writer only for you.
Thousands of letters and words,
Will never be sufficient to tell the
Depths of my love,
For i will continue to write and express,
The true love i found within the pages.
The one & only love i treasure.
And the only love I\'ll forever write.
-紫呉