Love is a fragile thing, With Time as her Mistress

They say true love is all about timing,
Is it fated in the stars, written across time herself?
I say, it is too sudden of a moment to be known as love,
It is more like an invasion of senses and feelings too deep to describe.
And she scares me more than anything I have never known, so,
How can I give myself to you when I’m afraid?
Time is a dear friend of mine,
She has been with me for as long as I can remember,
Warning me from the dangers of a stolen moment,
Coxing me away from deviates she had not planned for me,

Time had brought you to and from me,
And what a beauty she is, forever engraved in stone and legend,
Love lingered in the memories of those left with half a heart,
A piece of soul trapped in space, drifting endlessly, waiting to be found,
And yet, for all her gifts, her burning stars and skies and precious moments,
Time is but the cruelest mistress of all, tragic and beautiful,
Lost in the same sky as those who gaze upon it.

So I struggle with her involvement and sacrifice what is left of my heart to Love,
She knows my past, and lives with my present, and,
Knowing she will have seen future, I can only hope she will do right by me,
So tell me, how am I supposed to give myself away when I am afraid?
Letting people in is hard, even for a newfound believer,
But, I think if Time, a dear friend of mine, can fit this into her plan for me
Who am I do stop fate, intense senses and lovely feelings from intervening?


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