s superfluous to the realms of your imagination
I am not the demon on your procrastination
In tongues I do not speak
I do not prey on the young or weak
I cannot cover my eyes in case I fall blind
My head is weak, my heart is kind
My awkwardness is muted by inappropriate delusions
Which are bespelled by your inadequacy and illusions.
And we paint so many pictures of mystique and rhyme,
Which fade and digress over time?
Fear and nepotism paint over your face;
Once was beautiful but fell from grace.
And people are troubled by love and attention
And we never let our heart sink by detention
There is not need, nor lust or body benign
And me, my love, my heart is not thus or thine
It is set free by that which is not disturbed
But by words and feelings perturbed.
And by wish or falter or running away
Every new sun sets on a dying day