When he is sad,
My tears are just watery entities,
And my lips are chapped laments
That wish to kiss him on his porcelain cheek  
And send him to an unspoken bliss.

When he is sad,
My whole world
Is an electric madness
That I dare not live,
But grieve over.

I hope to never see him cry
But when a somber tear be shed,
I will immerse myself
In a pain that goes on forevermore;
I will hug him with a fond embrace.

His sadness is a grief
That cannot be spoken by a sensitive heart like I,
For I would sunder in yonder
April skies.


I am in love with him
And it's so strange...
Such an intricate force
That has never been.
It's like my heart and mind's
Devotion, humanity, and passion
Depends upon him.

When he laughs,
When he is a jovial friend and brother of mine,
We are beautiful.
We laugh and, at last,
Have sought the sublime, refreshing youth
That brings us closer.

When he smiles at me,
A fascinating transpiration is then reborn,
And it is stunning.
It's like we will never die.


Nevermore, my days of beauty,
Laughter, and fascination will soon be,
For he is leaving my heart that beats a serenade
In time with his beautiful face's cry.

He is leaving for Annandale,
And he leaves me with a tear upon my face.
He will leave, taking with him
The sublimity I never can gaze upon so fondly again
After the grey of June that I so devotedly
Fear.