Her voice calls out to me,
it reaches beyond the walls.
Her love is a brilliant light,
which hangs above the shade.
Slowly, the shade leaves from view,
the light she wields is too much.

Her love is a garden,
abundant and plentiful.
Her love is a treasure,
always too wonderful.

Her voice sends a request to me,
echoing throughout the halls.
Her love, the brilliant light,
it seems shall never fade.
This feeling I bask in is new,
I nearly melt in her touch.

The Darkness which creeps,
trying to hide from her light.
Constantly it weeps,
for it has lost this fight.

Sadness and despair flee from the scene
Gladness and her care have altered the mean.
Her love paints across such masterful art,
forevermore, I'll allow her my heart.