Fire.

Playing with that

And sand

Will not take me

To my desires

There comes a time for water

For removing one's armor

For dropping one's sword

Because love is not a victory march

It is not about a work of art

For I know love is soft

I hold it in my arms

And in my heart

We are circling around

These birds refusing

The gentle landing

And times passes

I write past the storms

To sunny days

Where everything will be okay

And life will rise

As a force within itself

Complete in love.