Mystical
Stardust and Magical Things I find freedom in being captured, By that arresting gaze, Time stands still, and so do I, Scouring for befitting words of praise. But before I can compose a verse, Your hand is in mine, As I fall away from rational thought, The sky seems amaranthine. You're an enchantment, Superposing the lines on our palms, Imprinting on our soul strings, A love, eternal as the Psalms. As the crimson beams, herald a goodbye, Entangled in my fingers, you leave, Some warmth and some stardust, On a magical eve! Psalms: a sacred song or poem used in worship