I die a little each passing day,
not for myself,
but for the love of my dreams.
To protect her against all odds,
even fighting the demons of hell,
to preserve her her soul for the ages.
But with one kiss I pledge to her,
the undying love of a man fire,
to seek out evil's demise.
That which stifles her each breath,
for there is no greater triumph,
than that of her tormentor's death.
Longing to taste her strawberry lips,
to ravish her sun kissed flesh,
to die for that which I believe.
In love's euphoric bliss
I shall dwell in her soul
shadowing her until the coldest winter. . .
Timothy Michael DiVito c2020
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