To tenderly sail on silent seas, The sonder of our drive.
The stories told from intimacy, That cautiousness thrills our lives.
What more can you ask from man or myth, To grant one's deep desires.
To set ablaze one's soul again, And bring forth righteous fires.
I'll sing to you this song of past, Of long-forgotten sorrows.
I hope this anecdoche will brighten you tomorrow.
And was that line predictable? For that, there is no scale.
Only hope that you are smiling bright, My dearest Abigail.












