Wrong Moves

By Martin Stein

When the evening breeze
blows softly from the sea
and the moon, beloved
face, shines in your eyes
are you there still?

When shades of icy dark
dare to grasp your heart
will you keep your light
shining for you and me?

When waves of fiery wrath
surround you in a storm
will you resist in peace,
your anchor fast and tight?

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