i met a poet through a cracked screen
he took my hand and lead me astray
a world of million coloured florals,
a world of Aquifoliaceae
where the lion and the deer play
like long lost neighbours
rather than predator and prey,
where schools of fish pass
wet feet by the cold bay,
he leans closer to me now
i feel his words I feel him say
our love is like a dance
take my hips and lead my sway,
simple like a waltz
yet complex like ballet
my mind is a blur
dont end this day
even if skys turn grey
if we lose the way
just say okay
delay your stay
my sweet poet
i know you'll fly away
on golden wings made of golden words
such a romantic, such a cliche
if only we could return someday
if only everytime i read your words of gold
your wings of words
your skies of grey
theyd take me back
theyd let me breakaway
any poet can write a castaway
but only he could write a hideaway
runaway
right away
ill be your protege if you'll be my holiday
if you'll let me overstay
if you lead me to the passageway
every day is judgement day
every day is disarray
you dont need to be my fiancee
you dont need a fresh bouquet
just take my hand
take my screen
take me cracks and all
lead me astray