Like Hecate fed Theseus dandelions for thirty days

He made up his mind

Before thirty days,

On the birthday of the person causing his late night sighs.

Days pass by, night after night he scribbles letters never sent

Room littered with torn pages

When fear gets him the best,

How will he express the pent up feelings?

On the marked day,

He blew dandelions up in the air

Ready as ever,

He went to find his way to her heart.

The girl who wished to soar like an eagle high in the sky

But ended up falling in the ground,

Found a little hope looking at his eyes.

Her name was Evanthe, his was Acacius

They were the flower and the thorn,

Together a rose.

I hope you liked the poems I wrote. This is the end of this poem book. Thanks again for opening this book of poem.