|All due credits to John_William_Waterhouse_The_Lady_of_Shalott|
Illusions, surreal as they come;
Embraced a newfangled tangent;
When he strode in like a lightning,
And eluded like a star so distant.
The time with him around,
Have become fragments of me.
Manifesting into little chunks,
And etched in doting memory.
Prayers fail me even as I vainly try
To seize that moment of bliss
While I watch him in rapture
Let myself want to passionately kiss
I have a confession to make, I am
Guilty of an unblemished sensation!
Of adoration, desire and superlative love
A feeling so poignant I felt with none
I want to clinch it and make it my own
But I must be a fool to cage the breeze
So I will seek solace in my musing
By writing ballads like these!
For Magnifico, Felicidades!