The mornings are still quiet and cold,
But the chill isn’t bitter anymore.
Not that the sun rays could pierce through,
The forgotten and shut window.
It is still lonely here,
For he who disappeared had cast a spell.
And like a storm that never raged,
She retreated back to her dreamy shell.
But the magic spilled out of the corners,
And spread around like a wild fire!
Until the cold winter morning,
Was set ablaze with buried desire.
Since then the moon has been kind,
And so has the awaited night.
Her heart is dead and yet she takes a dive,
Into the silent waters of this brief respite
For she knows the gnomes won’t let her drown,
And mermaids will come to her rescue.
While you paint her universe,
With your ever-so-charming hue!
The same that makes the cold less bitter,
And tickles her wounded heart.
She hopes she could be the same for you,
If only she knew where to start!