I am the anchor,
To your whimsical balloon.
Suspended at the perfect height,
Where the mountains catch the fading light,
And the stars kiss the waxing moon.
Your anchor gives you grounding,
And keeps you from floating away,
Too far beyond the lines.
And well-familiar signs,
Of your happiness's needless decay.
Yet equally, the balloon lifts its anchor,
From its barren hole,
As an open invitation,
To boundless exploration,
A beautiful chase to catch the fleeing soul.
We are to one another,
Two tethers to the sky,
Where the pulse of life,
Shall overcome its strifes,
On a journey together,
To make the most of forever,
Until our last goodbye.