This ballet of our souls finds expression in these bodies. What is the fruit of Love's labor? Is it not the expansion of our very being?
Time has kidnapped our souls. But a slave to love I choose, and willingly! I will shed this body when all seasons end, and I will seek your face no more. The fruit of forty thousand years- your love from the other side- calling me home.
Time has kidnapped our souls. But a slave to love I choose, and willingly! I will shed this body when all seasons end, and I will seek your face no more. The fruit of forty thousand years- your love from the other side- calling me home.
