A special vision of something clear
Winters hand of a magical dream

Time that calms the my mind of worry
It clears my minds glare of gleams

I stare into a lyrical world
Where reality becomes a vision of hope

And yet, still love is in the air
Took with the wind, and washed abroad

It forms as a symbol, of purity and desire
Honorable to have such a possession

It is what sometimes touches me
A form of harmonies melody.

And yet I sit inside a tunnel
Trying to figure out this issue

Choosing that of whom I love
Gazing at a form of trust

My problem is, whom is love for
Which is her of whom I choose?

Who has life, life within themselves?
To understand and know the truth

Is it time with hands of life?
Which drizzles down upon my window?

Or is it beauty, whose lily is sweet
Her presence liberates light from shadow

Her feet our as the seconds in a minute
For life is in the seeds of the present

the rhythm, of a ladies heart beat
glows as light when shown in her presence

love is for her who has love for me
love is known to show its beauty

a butterfly, whose heart is true,
I know of no woman to be found

passion is in the melody of a song
for inside of a song I found my sound

I am a believer of life in love
For without belief there is no faith

But gaze into a midwinter’s dream
I stare at the hands, which are made of neglect

For I have hope inside a life
That has the rhythm of a butterfly’s effect