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i wove you a prose, hoping you didn't see through my metaphors.
divine awareness is surely attuned to the reverberations of your name, inspiring within me the desire to craft a volume of prose, each word a testament to your exquisite beauty and profound significance in my life's narrative.
1st. if the world were to end, i'd rather not share those final moments with you. concealed within are the storms that rage when you suffer, the countless hours it takes to erase your name from my thoughts, and the constant yearning for your godly attention.
2nd. bet you didn't know that if that string won't connect our ring fingers, i'd call upon angels to witness me severing that string on yours.
3rd. despite my lack of faith, i'd beseech the divine to safeguard your well-being and to etch our names side by side in the book of life.
he surely must be shaking his head, seeing me hold my pen and weave just because of having a glimpse of your face.
