heavensent

I want to feel you again like I did back then when there was no trouble inside my mind and my soul night was not roaming around on the holy ground of hell. Does this love make me a saint or a sinner as I try to keep the petals of the roses from falling?

I keep losing my mind and body, but this holy water always carries my heart and soul back to you. It does not know the meaning of sink or swim or the reality of this borrowed dream that we always live in every time the stars are rewritten and we are reborn with a new love story to learn.

Who paints the pictures and calls it art? Who writes the sentences and calls it a story? Who recites the words and calls it poetry? I do know the answer, and who assigns the assignments? All I know is yours, and there is where I went because, for centuries, we were meant to meet each other so we our heaven sent