To the eternal muse
who I hope to meet one day ...
It is that which whispers when all is still in the lulls of the mind.
It is that which makes the heart race when the clock strikes the calmest hour.
It is you to which my soul has assigned.
It is you to which my eye sees as the most precious flower.
It is now for which my heart beats.
It is now for when my soul yearns.
It is her what my eye wishes to meet.
It is her to which this bright fire within me burns.
It is our tomorrow for which I hope.
It is our today for which I cling to.
It is us for why I put these words into an envelope.
It is us for why I pen these words and think of me and you.
It is from here where I sit, where I see your smile gleam.
It is from here where I wish for nothing to wake me from this eternal dream.