Weight Of Our Truths

Is love enough, I wonder--
to bridge the chasm between what is and what could be?
Can it weave a path from the ethereal threads of two souls,
each bearing the weight of their own worlds?

In my realm, the heavens shimmer with thought,
dreams blooming like eternal sunflowers--
vivid, untamed, unyielding.
We are architects of the intangible,
weaving visions into the fabric of eternity.
It was here, amid the uncharted expanse, that I found her.

She emerged from a world of ashen skies and weary earth,
where breath is wrested and hope flickers faint but refuses to die.
Yet within her burns a fire that defies the gray,
a light her world cannot quench.
Her laughter resists, her dreams endure.
And when she looks at me, I am humbled--
by the brilliance in her gaze,
so fierce it illuminates my own shadow.

But I wonder--what is the cost of carrying such a flame
in a land that hungers for ash?

She speaks of love, and I am undone.
But is love enough to lift her into my skies,
or to anchor me to her soil?
Could I endure a world where joy is hewn from stone
and dreams are distant whispers?
Or would she be lost in a realm unbound by earth?

I stand at the precipice, trembling--
not with doubt, but with awe.
Afraid that the bridge we build
will crumble beneath the weight of our truths.
Afraid that her strength and my dreams are fated to collide.
Afraid the void between us is too vast to be crossed.

And yet--love, fierce and unreasoning, calls us forward.
So I ask not if love is enough.
I ask if we are brave enough to answer its call--
to defy the abyss, not as saviors, but as equals.
To risk the fall into darkness for the promise of light.