Please note. Some parts of this story are still draft. Names, places, rough outlines, out of order, etc. I still hope you enjoy it though. Language, adult themes and coarse language warning also.

'She sits, a blossom in full bloom,
radiating love upon the moon.
Her summer smile the starlit night,
but in these skies the lightning strikes.

And I'm the storm where thunders rage,
a lion born upon the stage.
With flash of fire and burst of light,
upon these plains our demons fight.

Our wildfire burns through daisy fields,
'fore autumn comes her petals fall.
The flames too hot for wings to fly,
a mournful roar as young dreams die.

Alone I roam with coat charred black,
while her colors fade in deep regret.
For a time she's dark and lost,
with winter's chill I count the cost.

The silence scars a heart now cold,
and where she sat an empty spot.
Like rain tears fall, and not too soon,
they soothe the seeds beneath the doom.

Come winter's end the fields are dead,
but sprouts appear 'neath thawing frost.
At seasons turn we've paid our due,
and now she's free to bloom anew.

With warm sun rays my storms they clear,
our cure found with spring's rebirth.
The fires quenched, the demons dead,
so with our dream we went ahead.

Back and forth,
our love was nature's force.
From young spring fields to winter's grave,
we danced our memories away.'

'Love, like everything, is marred by little imperfections:
scars reaped from the fields of our hearts and dreams.
But that doesn't make love any less beautiful;
no, if anything, it only makes it more real.'