A Cadence Of Sorts

If it's too much to ask tonight,
I'll pen it in red, with love I will sign.
I'll call you the calm before the storm,
a sight for sore eyes,
a heart that's been worn.
Was it the wake,
the bend,
the fold,
the crashing of tides and breaking the mold?
Follow the leader, it's past ten.
If I could see you, I'd softly lift your chin.
I'll bare your weakeness, wear all regret, comfort and hold you,
if you would only let this change.
If I were to shine a light so bright,
would you grace a smile and then trace the line?
Leading the way back to a heart.
A scrapbook collection where you've left your mark.
A blueprint once saved for days with rain.
A casual method to let go of pain.
So here's to the step to make the most of sand and surrender. Waves breaking the shore.