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❤️