Beneath the sky, where shadows cast, He speaks of love that’s built to last. A door he’ll open, flowers in hand, A gentle guide through life’s demand.
His touch will warm, his heart will speak, With every step, he’ll make me weak. Through crowded streets, in quiet halls, He'll guard me close, whenever I fall.
But deep inside, a whisper stirs, A voice that lingers, doubts and fears. What if the past still calls his name, And every gesture feels the same?
What if my heart can never know, The love that bloomed in her sweet glow? What if each touch, each caring act, Is but a shadow of what's intact?
Like echoes in a silent space, A memory none can erase. I wonder if the love I crave, Will always be a love I’ll save,
Not for myself, but for the ghost, Of someone cherished, loved the most. And in the dance of tender grace, Will I find my own rightful place?
Still, I long to trust the skies, And let the future clear my eyes. For maybe love’s a mystery, And time will carve its history.
