The Conclusion of What Was Swept Under the Rug

The conclusion to my previous poem: Under the Rug.

Lately my brain will try to create,
Problems and issues and reasons to hate,
But my heart knows,
And so the truth grows,
You are real and perfect to me.
The King of my world, beautiful and pure,
I can not expect or even dream of more,
Love of kindness, sweetness and care
Is one unfamiliar and to me so rare
The fire is there, the rug has been burnt
And all that was under are now lessons I've learnt
What was swept under were my own untrue creations
From the habits of untrue past relations
I love you for every second of the day,
And every second in the dark we lay,
You are the man of the dreams and the real,
My heart beats fast for how you make me feel