 and the sun did not shine with its golden hue. If the stars in the night sky twinkled no more and gone was the wind that we all adore. If flowers ceased to bloom in vibrant array and the poets were left with nothing to say. If the mountains crumbled no more to be seen and the grasses all died ne'er again to be green. If the paints of the artist were left to go dry and the birds couldn't sing and forgot how to fly. If all the worlds beauty faded and fell true I would barely notice them passing from view, for there would still be you. |
