All The Empty Places

Four days and the Guardian of My Dreams goes hungry. The Instigator comes and goes but he has no real power the limit of his influence is just a mild exasperation at the risky drivers upon our local streets who's imperative trumps both safety and sense more often than not. Meanwhile we safe drivers who avoid hundreds of accidents over the years must remain extra vigilant with no other compensation for our devotion other than possibly our own lives which is always enough for me.
Joy slowly fills in all the empty places of my heart. All the vacant places of my soul. If the body is indeed a temple then it must be sanctified and made pure if its power is to be incorruptible. If my heart is soon be as pure as the driven snow. If The Guardian of my Dreams lay down his sword and bar the Gate To Everywhere no more. Then these words will find my lips and your ears daily and day after
I will and do declare.
That all that I do, I do for Love!