It's just another boring day, or is it?
It seems like my days here have no meaning, or do they?
I walk out and see him there, on the rock he doth sit.
He hears me coming; he turns his head, and looks my way.
My best friend can not be compared to anyone,
His eyes glisten like the waters beneath him
His smile shins as bright as the sun.
The tone of his voice is as sweet as the bells that ring.
We laugh and play like two children of old,
We spin around in a swirling mist of flowers,
We fall, but this time the still air is not dank and cold,
We lie side by side in silence for hours.
Night falls around us,
I take a deep breath, hoping