There's been flame, there's been fire.
So violent and strong they ravaged on
and destroyed it all, in the fury of a pire,
so meaningless, in the end, and forlon.
But a quiet little flame burnt on
homely, in a hearth all of its own.
Year after year, that little flame survives
granting light and heat to chosen lives.
The paths, at last, end and allign
for I already knew that I was yours, and you were mine.
Pubblicato il 7/10/2013 alle 18.27 nella rubrica Diario.