She dreamt of being saved, but even she knew no northern light, no guided path could lead her home. She was a wanderer and her gypsy heart could never be tamed.

He loved her because she was just as lost as him. Most search for a compass to lead them home, he ached for a like wanderer to travel his broken path.

At times she felt crazed, like a lost wanderer traveling a path that led her anywhere but home.

The sadness strummed my heart to the tune of a Spanish guitar. Each chord was a lullaby of days passed, moments lost and dreams that would never be.

The thing about love is most only find their way into our hearts, but every now and again one will find the entrance to your soul. Once that happens your entire world will shift. It changes you in every way, it paralyzes you, and the way you love will never be the same.

His heart glowed like a thousand fireflies lighting up a still autumn night. He was a lucid light in an indistinct clouded world.