Sunday Poem by David Pyrs

You are there for me,
When I yearn for thee.

A boesem worth a million suns,
A boesem, worth a million cries.

I must embrace six lovers before thee,
Six amazing lovers, and yet none like you, to set me free.

I will greet a night more than once,
Avoid the Sun, at its best times.

I will embrace a lover, with all I got even if there is nothing left to have,
Just to get closer to you my love.

I will wade throught rubble, swim through salt and fight bears with my bare hands,
Only to reach thee. my love, for the most unchained of times.

You call for me, while I am with six lovers before thee,
You call for me, without a tear or a drop of envy.

You call for me! ! !
To face darkness,
challenge evil and madness,

To get back home,
For all your sunday Sweetness.