L'amour sans fond

Picture it different, never cope.
Light times, black space.
A muse, a bard their dreams for hope
belonging without a line forgotten or verse not seen.
The world is his, and we were singing
Things to wish her better, he said death was life
and you met her to shine. be my love with no bottom
as a sign place this soul I have as the poet writing, and rhyming still
Name me by my poetry and eyes opened wide, anyones but mine.