A whisper awakes me.
What does it say?
This is a vaguely familiar whisper.
But I do not remember where I've heard this familiar sound.
My heart has been asleep with the snow of winter.
For it was tire from the Latin charade.
When we were introduced, I felt your magnaticism allure me.
You charm entices me.
On a wild night we meet our match.
You pour your passion into the pen.
My heart beats a little louder.
Has it awoken from winter?
Ah I hear that dark whisper echoing in the distance once more.
The passion enters my soul once again.
Is there ever such thing as a goodly passionate affair?
No I guess not, but my heart does awake to dare.
