Ductility of love

A room into a door,
A door onto a road,
A road into a city,
All lines connect to one node,
A country flows into the ocean,
And from that endless blue,
Emerge my bonds to you.

This thin golden thread,
Makes its way past others,
Beyond the doubte and the dread,
It stretches confidently to you.

All along its path are seen,
Threads whose colour had gold been,
Now they are but black ends,
An unfinished story of a pauper who lends.

At this the gold thread feels scorn,
A scorn that turns into pity,
And as a rose emerges from thorns,
The thread stretches to you.

Suddenly the sky turns dark,
The air becomes deathly still,
Heard is a single warning bark,
As a scissors emerges to kill.

These blades were not always bad,
They had some threads too,
But strength was what they never had,
They withered as the scissors watched in rue.

So now these blades in rage,
Did what the weak do,
They tried to entice a sage,
Weaken my thread to you.

As the scissors blocked its path,
My thread lost its cheer,
On the scissors it rained all its wrath,
My thread to you my dear.

The golden thread narrowed its eyes,
Stretched its body tight,
With a prayer to the skies.
It got ready for the fight.

The blades slashed here, cut there,
But could not damage my thread,
And then the scissors fell right there,
And lost all its rage,
Knowing that love comes only to those,
Who to defy the world do dare.

At last my thread reached your place,
Saw you with my eyes,
And encouraged by your soft embrace,
Forged 'tween our hearts these ties.

So when you feel the need for me,
And doubt that our love is true,
Give my thread a little tug,
And I'll be in front of you.

It does not matter where we are,
Together or apart,
We are like two twinkling stars,
Connected from the heart...