Muse Of Love Poetry Novels & Stories

Thomas whispered on his lover's ears. "You won't abandon me, right?" Fara’s crestfallen voice gently floated audibly on the ears of the cultivators around. Though it was mosquito like in scale, a murmur, a gentle tremor, yet how could such a paltry hindrance bar the capture of the curious. These lot could change landscapes and empty ocean floors if they wish so, what more some little pronouncements of love in their midst. It was ever the tragic tales of love that invited the fancy of the romantics. This was true in the past, real in the present, and will forever remain significant on the morrow.

as she listened the voice of their singer, singing her personal favorite "Baby, I'm dancing in the dark With you between my arms Barefoot on the grass Listening to our favourite song When you said you looked a mess I whispered underneath my breath But you heard it, Darling, you look perfect tonight~" As she slowly walked down in the aisle, she had felt every eyes are on her... Completely bewitched by her beauty, "Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home I found a love to carry more than just my secrets To carry love, to carry children of our own~"

Charles Williams Point of View On getting to her place ,I gat down to open the door for her. She invited me in but I declined and told her I would do so when she agrees to be my girlfriend and she chuckled softly hitting my shoulders playfully. Vivian Tyler is the only one person that understand me all the time . She was the apple of my eyes when we were at school and I always take pleasure at scaring guys away from her. Some of my friends still call her my school sweetheart. She's always willing to hear me out even now and always carry out her assignments dutifully. "What can I do without my childhood sweetheart?, absolutely nothing"I thought grinning to myself as I pulled up at the gate of

The only thing Seipati loved was that love had tamed the monster. Things were going well between them and Seipati gave the credit to Ntate Mogoadi again. To her, Ntate Mogoadi was like cupid. He had contacted her mother-in-law to get long lost love. She was calling him Mr love. She wished he could meet someone to love as well.

"You have perused all those love poems in the library and could only assume that you have never felt anything the like. The poem's explanation of what love is does not fit what you have felt, but you are missing the point of all those poems." "For thousands of years, the bards have written love poems trying to describe what love is, and all poems have different descriptions. Obsession, desire, joy, hate, jealousy, calm, security. The reason why they all give different descriptions is simply that no one knows what love is. Feelings do not create love. Love creates feelings. Auons demand love on a deeper plane as this is the one thing that can bring feelings to life for them." Sen let go of Ak

Dear My Lovely Pink I adopted this poem from the book by Ibn Hazm Al Andalusi entitled. Words of Love from Andalusia. You must have never read it, right? That's why I edited one for you. Read and don't cry when I'm not by your side. "'True love is not the result of a momentary process Not because of coercion But walk and bear fruit slowly Skip the long combination so that the stake is solid After a long journey, steady intention and determination

She recalled the day she and Sean were kissing intimately in the bathroom, with James standing even closer to them than she was now to him. Was James’s pain then the same as hers now, unbearable to the point of suffocation? No, his pain must have been even worse. So this was what love felt like. To love someone was to be unable to bear seeing others being close to them or claiming them as their own. But she had hurt James deeply, countless times. Like self-inflicted punishment, she stood motionless in the snow, staring at the darkened window. The next morning, Jessica and James left for the City Hall.

The garden stood still, the trees unmoving, the air filled with nothing but warmth and quiet belonging. My Luna. My darkest obsession. My moon. And in that quiet moment, with her lips pressed against mine and her breath mingling with my own, words rose within me— I rested my forehead against hers and spoke softly, my voice barely louder than the wind. “If love were fire, You would be the flame that never fades. If love were night, You would be the moon that guards my sky. If love were war, I would bleed gladly beneath your name. And if love were death—

The light breathed love. The love was the movement. And it flowed. The rhythm. The spaciousness. The completeness. The all. Always. The cursed wolf breathed love. The light breathed love. Love was the movement. And it flowed. In every fleeting moment. In every quiet pause. In every open chest. The manor breathed love. The garden breathed love. The light breathed love. In the hush. In the fleeting. In the boundless. And that was the essence. The one that endured.