In the eve of my darkest hour
I write to you my love
bringing to bare the fruits of my labor, my thoughts and my love.
For it is not the moment we first kissed
Nor the moment we first loved
but the moments we grow within it!
Cast before me are the shadows of dim
the worries of yester-year
and the grey of today.
But to you my love, i write to seek peace in sorrow
to you my love i write to draw you near
even nearer than memory
I wish to write your tender touch within my palm
or to write the feel of your lips on mine
to write your close embrace of warmth about my body
or to write the feeling we have inside.
In the eve of my darkest hour my love,
i wish it were not you that precedes it
nor you that brings it!
nor you that abounds it!
Within the eve of my darkest hour my love...
i wish to dispell it!
i seek to find the light inside
i fight to keep the love alive
and write to you my love...
After...
