In realms of dreams and wistful lore,
Where love resides forevermore,
I sing a tale of heartfelt hue,
Yet bittersweet, I must implore.
Love is nothing more than a fairy tale,
Whispered the skeptic, heartsick and frail.
With cynic's shield, they'd scorn and scoff,
Denying love's essence, ever so frail.
But let me weave a verse of truth,
Intricate strands of love's sweet proof.
For though it dances in realms unseen,
Its touch, its fire, is real, in truth.
Love is a tapestry, delicate and grand,
Woven through souls, entwined, hand in hand.
It paints our world in vibrant hues,
Defying reason, defying command.
From whispers shared in moonlit nights,
To tender gazes, love's gentle rites,
It breathes enchantment in each embrace,
A symphony of hearts, love's sacred rights.
Through battles fought, through trials faced,
Love shines brightest, unyielding, encased.
It mends our wounds, it heals our scars,
A refuge found in love's warm embrace.
And yes, love falters, love may break,
Like fragile glass, it shatters, opaque.
But from the shards, love's fragments rise,
A phoenix born, love's strength awake.
For love is not a mere charade,
Nor whimsy spun by chance, displayed.
It's a force that binds, that sets hearts free,
An eternal tale, forever conveyed.
So let the skeptic cast their doubt,
In shadows dim, they may dwell without.
But I'll believe in love's sweet reign,
For in its arms, my heart shall devout.
Belle Webb🪶©2023
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