Blacks howling

This is what peace is,

Not intense laughter or the pleasure thereafter,

It is not piles of money or the many words in honey,

It is not the way she looks or the way she cooks,

It is not soul mates, red strings and the fates,

It's words and acts, Living in reality and fact,

An intensity and propensity to romance thee,

To give so much love, that rivals the definition from above,

So that heartaches, and bad takes from before are no more,

To heal wounds long forgotten, and Un do that knot in,

That had fumbled you for so long, and watch it finally be gone,

Real love is peace, it makes you weak, and builds in that same breath,

And you my faye, my queen, my love personify this.