Colloquy of Heart to Confession.

Dear You,

I'm not sure you realize this, but your eyes are witnessing what you've lit on fire. You see, you planted this tiny seed inside my fingers allowing it to grow with the necessary water you provided. They took flight and soared across the alphabet, arranging pictures of words. Somehow you made a painting out of this and I enjoyed it entirely so. I still do. I've a candle burning to stay lit when the moon spends the night above us. You're in the painting you so dearly placed in my imagination. I suppose it would be impossible to thank you enough.

Your vision is embedded into the sole discretion of my heart. You see right through my eyes and through my mind all the way down to my fingertips. I pour out your inspiration and dedication to never leaving my simplistic creativity. Although I remain unsure if you are aware of this. Quite much time ago you opened a box with a screaming voice and it has made its way outside and into my world. It begged intensely for quite a time ago and shall now thank you beyond measure for setting it free.

So although I'm unsure whether you realize this or not, you deserve more than a reward. Your entire being has served such a vast purpose with my very existence. The path that led you to speak out volumes into my hearing was so perfectly planned. So that a decent time later I would be writing out into the alphabetic clouds a story of my very growth from dull to excellence. Words would form like flowers in a garden that you tenderly took care of. My greatest and most sincere gratitude of this favor you have done for me. I will remain in high hopes that through my colloquy of heart to confession, you will come to thoroughly penetrate the very entity of my enduring fidelity.

Sincerely,
The Inspired