You be the critic, I’ll be the mystic,
Dwell deeper into the works of art,
For I see only passion, some fatal attraction,
Like symphony playing in the ruins of our heart.
Nothing seems wrong, nothing just right,
We reach a new height,
with every fresh flight….
To this magical plane, where life goes insane,
Where air meets wind and water meets rain….
Where you find only truth—in its purest form,
And acceptance is the unspoken norm.
No matter……
How you do or what you say,
We let you remain, and watch from the bay…
Expressions…..heartfelt—crafted ‘your way’.
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