The Conceding Heart

When the roots start to grow and foundation into ground,
And deep within your hidden voice, a yearning singing sound.

A feeling blossoming, 
a silent hidden awe,
The warmest of the sunsets have little shine as this has more.

Though words fall quiet but busy,
And a want consumes you whole,
Whilst conceding heart implores you,
To release your captured soul.

As your spirit chases wishes,
Of a dreamer which once told,
A story from a young girl,
Of the largest treasure stole.