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Writer's pictureshsimages

Mystery of Love | Henry Bradt (11)

One moment there are flashing lights,

Cars drive away,

No one hears me screaming,


There’s no one in the world for me

No one else asking, no one else pleading


For a place to call a home,

Who never needs to comb

For anyone at all


Then in the flash of those lights I saw

There’s a glimmer of hope

It’s you, in the midst of it all


And suddenly,


Winter, spring, summer, or fall

I want to know where you are in my heart

Leaves may fall, but I will only rise to meet you.


I follow the light, 

For you never steer me wrong.


I follow all the signs that lead to you,

For you are,


Here for my good times,

Here for my bad


Here when I scream,

Here when I’m mad


It makes no difference how I feel inside,

We know where we are


Now we make a world together

No one else can get inside

No one else can take away


It’s ours alone.


How we found each other,

It’s one of a kind.


The spark is ours only.


What is its color?

What is its shape?

How big is it?

How small?


This is the mystery of love.


It’s not magic,

It’s real.


It’s not in you,

It is you.


I found you.


It waited for the perfect time,

And appeared in front of our very eyes,

Yet also in our hearts.

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