If I could take these words, my love
and mold them out like clay,
I’d gladly take the time to shape
each single word I say

I’d place each word to hover - here -
with touches feather light
to hang with murmured words of faith;
I’d give you wings of flight

I’d place them soft upon your brow
and smooth away your fears;
I’d strew them in your hair like stars
and wipe away the tears

But my hands are clumsy, love,
so I fear I have no choice;
Instead of finely crafted treasures
I can give only my voice.
<sub>-Me, for Owlion



Featuring Eveline, the OC of Owlion</sub>