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I'll write you a couple of things,
that come to my mind,
why you are always present,
like the most beautiful roses.
Your laughter is melodious,
a song in the air, a bridge,
linking brave hearts,
in days of diffuse nights.
From your gaze, tenderness
is a lighthouse in the storm,
a light that is never absent,
and so chases away madness.
You are the verse in the rhyme,
the wake that the wind embraces;
a dream that never passes,
a poem that is squeezed out.