With every page turn,
He lay more sure,
That she was indeed,
His favourite parable.

The more he mused,
At her great bind.
The closer he found,
Himself by love's side.

But he did haste,
And seal his fate.
With a book without words,
Like a blind man's tale.

A pretty book,
Judged by its cover.
Left no content,
For him to discover.