each night I stare down at my love.
supine, she lies
staring into the sky above.
with the melancholic hues of her eyes,
tear tracks reflecting in the light
and sweet little lips that told sweet little lies.
why does she come out here late at night?
for her longing expression could be my demise!

oh, but how beautiful a demise that would be!
though that means I can no longer be in sight...
that we could never be her and me..
but at least then I couldn't taunt or smite
and take away her small feeling of glee!
but with silent ideals - we are two worlds apart.
and I could never be a true devotee..
because our star crossed love is a tragic work of art.