I walk through the stilled beauty of her heart,
I confess as random as a breeze,
Awakened songs of love, so deep in thought,
As roses in the winters frost will freeze.
Nor broken, bent, or shamefuly cast,
Is my immortality of the past.
I wish for only beats of two,
As I progress and go on through.
I\'d enter slow and hide a while,
Listening softly to your benevolent smile.
And fall where you doth throw.