Dear lady I do know, that beauty's cursed:
To draw unwanted eyes to bask that fair
And I proclaim the masses have their worst
With me to draw by pupils, all that rare.
But if she were behind my eyes, she'd see;
A temple to a goddess most revered,
Where marble has such form, and formed by me
And echoes, sweetly tones that love has eared.
Believe it true, the scariest do stare
But one who loves to love, fixates on truth
That all this being is; for love to bear
And grant to beauty's form, an ever youth.

As I do breathe, I breathe to beauty's ode
If she could know, then beauty has bestowed.