In the provision of unconditional love, perfection is still a a dillusional vision.
In the midst of collusion, often seclusion is thought of as a conclusion.
During execution intuition loudly screams, there can still be a solution.
The heart disputes saying there is now too much pollution.
Like a thief in the night, you came clothed in a garment of temptation.
In a blink of an eye, you had made nuisance what was perceived as a superb fusion.
For no other reason but for my dreams to be turned in to a dilution.
However, me and mine’s deep connection will be the engine of restitution.
In the wilting of our flower, I am encircled with confusion.
In the light of a bitter awakening, I weep at the feet of transformation shouting aloud for a redemption.
I eternally vow that water and sunlight will be its daily portion.
Its my notion that in nurturing I will once again see it blossom to great condition.
With devotion I tread with caution to once again embrace my fortune.
From a place of demotion I strive to walk through the door of your trust as the ultimate promotion.
You can then hold fast to the truth that there would never again be a trampling of your emotion.