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. 

                                                                   n♥_♥n