Words clashed like swords in a hurricane’s core,
Leaving love wounded, and tattered on the floor.
Sparks of anger died, embers turned to ash,
As understanding’s dawn replaced the clash.
For in the garden where our love took root,
Flawed vines entwined, bearing both bitter fruit
And blossoms sweet,
a tapestry unbound,
Where strength in imperfection could be found.
No journey ends,
just chapters turn the page,
Acceptance blooms,
a love beyond the stage
Of fleeting joy or sorrow’s biting sting,
A melody of hearts where souls can sing.
Hand in hand, we stitch the seams torn wide,
Embracing darkness where our flaws reside.
Not just of flesh, but spirits intertwined,
Two souls that grow, in love and wisdom aligned.
Through life’s wild dance, we’ll face the unknown hand in hand,
Imperfect steps upon a shifting sand.
For beauty lies not in a flawless form,
But in the embrace of every storm.
And so, our love, a fortress built to last,
A testament to battles bravely passed.
More than whispers in the heat of strife,
A journey shared a richer, deeper life.
