In the dusk of day, the hero returns, This time he knows the thoughts that dance in my mind, A little concerning, yet charming, it burns, Fearing he’ll uncover the secrets I hide. Each story I share, he treasures like gold, Weaving our worlds in a bold tapestry. He inspires me to mingle with the world, Gathering sunshine to share with him freely. But when clouds gather and shadows take flight, I fret that my words may dim his bright light. Some nights, the stars in his words seem to fade, His moon not as bright as it once serenely played. I fear that the rain I’ve unwittingly made Has dimmed my spark when my hero’s dismayed. Yet in the dark, I long to restore The magic we share, the connection we bore. z❤️