Through buckets of tears and puddles of rain, he stood brave through the storm; by her side. Turned the string to a rope, when she ran out of hope, as he tucked her limp body at night. The streaks in her strands, they grow old like her hands, as the depths of her wrinkles expand. Through the thick and the thin, from the good to the bad, still devoted to being her man. He has carried her heart, till now from the start, and his love it will not fade away. As others would run, for the sake of his "one", he has chosen with her he would stay.