Your love;
Dark, as the soil which fosters the brightest blooms;
Or as the grave, which swallows all those who pass into it,
Embracing them forever.
Solid as the earth beneath;
Often tread upon and taken for granted
Yet not crumbling.
Or, like a rock, containing many precious gems
Only for the eyes of those willing to look beneath the surface.
Rained on, stepped on, abused and broken,
But growing softer, not harder;
The birthplace of my own love,
Not only nurtured but nurturing.
Though often hurt, never hurting;
Though damaged by the hardest of hearts,
Yet as tender as a young vine.
Soft as silk, desiring only one thing;
A return for the love you so freely give-
Here's to you.
I love you.
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