Age Rating: 13 +
Eyes of softened honey brown,
Lips of red roses, glittering with dew,
Curled slightly in a smile, he does not frown,
With a piercing gaze for me and you.
His song is ambrosia, gift of the skies,
Filling my heart with hope and desire.
His words are light, no hidden lies,
And they cool my ceaseless fire.
His skin is alabaster, fragile and pure,
Adorned with shady kohl and light powder,
His presence is strong, filled with allure,
And his voice quiets the restless crowd.
You ask me what he means to me,
Expecting an answer I cannot give.
I wish I could describe succinctly,
How he inspires me to continue to live.
Robbed of his song, his voice, his word,
I think I would begin the spiral down
Into madness, would fly this bird,
And I would forget his sound.