I like to pretend

That my heart is whole.

Truth be told,

Its an endless hole.

My pretense is only broken

By Joy and Beauty:

By flowing rivers,

And blowing winds;

By scarlet sunset,

And golden sunrise.

Nothing, however, is

Sweeter than her Smile,

Nothing stronger than her Joy,

Nothing warmer than her Embrace,

Nothing finer than her Voice,

Nothing brighter than her Beauty.

Only she can reach inside me.

Only she can remove my mask.

Only she can fill the void.

She, amongst all, makes my heart be whole.