Holding out my hand
"May I have this dance?&quot...

Your features; all are darkened
silhouetted by the moon...

This romance
is a blissful night...

We are beaten,
battered, and bruised...

She's a quirky, precarious hue.
Strange in her ways alike...

The Crescent moon shows through dense mist,
its faint illumination reveals The Bog; behold...

Quiet like children's feet
Tension when our eyes meet...

Listen to your heart tonight.
If it is crying, tell it I will be home...