Deep within my soul, a crimson love story seeps, penned its composition keeps. Etched upon the tablet of my heart, the end still being inked, of a mind and soul living synced. Love is the ink, my heart just the pen, versed to spill the tea. Plot involving, of my heart and soul’s evolving, the artistic breadth of one’s inked love provoking. Constant it flows, consisting of some of life’s woes. Yet, endlessly my love pours inked, a never ending love story. Transformation of a heart being led, penciled thoughts redefined, of love permanently inked, its essence defined. Every soul has its tipping point, love of a harmonious well, spills of one’s heart profoundly textured, visibly inked. By design, love’s artistry leaves its truest mark, of its fluidity drying so clear. One’s heart revealing, the tapestry of one’s innermost, love inked transparently pure!
WCR
A Love Story! 
Well shared!
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Have a wonderful weekend!
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a beautiful image … and equally so your words, Warren … 🙏
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Thanks!😊
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my pleasure 🤍🙏
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“Constant it flows” Yes, your passionate pen does, highlighting a devoted heart. A joy to read your writing. Thank you, Warren.
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Blessings to you! 🙏🏽
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🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
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Your words mark the ink so beautifully on our hearts, Richard!
“Every soul has its tipping point, love of a harmonious well, spills of one’s heart profoundly textured, visibly inked.”❤️
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🙏🏽🙏🏽😊
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“…He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water…” John 7:38
Is love isn’t flowing into your ink, where does it come from? 😊
Blessings
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Indeed, blessings to you!
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Each word is so tender and moving, Richard!🩷
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Appreciate the comment!!🌺
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