The week we freed ourselves was heaven-sent,

and all the glitter of our love shone bright.

Despite the dark of our pain and descent,

my hope for your return came to ignite.

Your perfect flaws that would have stalled my heart

in any other man I could have loved

somehow hook me and tear me back apart,

like romance is a branch, and you, a dove.

I gave my time before to risky men,

yet I am not given the same sweet gift

of bringing a future to our present

and solving any God-forbidden rift.

But God has not forbade our love quite yet;

therefore, I am patient; my mind is set.