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To love or not to live...? This to you is my question
Everlasting was pledge, our commitment and passion
Solid and steady, this endless beating of hearts
More priceless than Picaso, each stroke of our art
Melting breathless in awe, with caress you extend
Professing my weakness, you're my lover and friend
A reminder, from the mouth of my heart, "Do not fear"
Faithfully insured, harm dwells nowhere near
We are blessed in the senses of completeness in life
Butterflies begin dancing, hinting husband and wife
Pallet pleased, in tasting the essence of our flavor
These ingredients I crave, your decadence I savor
God created, hands are, with fingertips I feel
Heavinly romanced, all my fantasy is real
In appearance, crafted for worth and esteem
We write and direct fictional stories and scheme
'Til one stormy day in winter, foliage fallen and bare
Your roots ripped from soil were once planted with care
Puppet Master, I'm alive! Pull not of my strings!
Instead dance in the stride of love's offerings
Emotions held in secret, destructively spared
Self-protected by our strengths, too often are shared
As we travel in hard shells, only empty and hollow
Each compassed by patterns we struggle not to follow
If I held of the power to transform you and I
To love or not to live wouldn't wonder me why
Everlasting was pledge, our commitment and passion
Solid and steady, this endless beating of hearts
More priceless than Picaso, each stroke of our art
Melting breathless in awe, with caress you extend
Professing my weakness, you're my lover and friend
A reminder, from the mouth of my heart, "Do not fear"
Faithfully insured, harm dwells nowhere near
We are blessed in the senses of completeness in life
Butterflies begin dancing, hinting husband and wife
Pallet pleased, in tasting the essence of our flavor
These ingredients I crave, your decadence I savor
God created, hands are, with fingertips I feel
Heavinly romanced, all my fantasy is real
In appearance, crafted for worth and esteem
We write and direct fictional stories and scheme
'Til one stormy day in winter, foliage fallen and bare
Your roots ripped from soil were once planted with care
Puppet Master, I'm alive! Pull not of my strings!
Instead dance in the stride of love's offerings
Emotions held in secret, destructively spared
Self-protected by our strengths, too often are shared
As we travel in hard shells, only empty and hollow
Each compassed by patterns we struggle not to follow
If I held of the power to transform you and I
To love or not to live wouldn't wonder me why
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