Only One

When you write poetry, you write it from the heart. And this is my heart.

She has the soul of an angel
She is the light of the sun
Her heart, a pure indescribable…
No word on earth can truly envision her
And the feelings in my heart

Language tries to classify them
I laugh at their attempt
For even in the snowy fields of winter
And even in the blooming fields of spring
Even in the dying days of autumn
Even in the sweltering days of summer
Even at the Big Bang
And unto the end of time
I know these feelings will not die

Time may make them fade
But never will they die
Forevermore
Hiding within my heart