I peer at the bottom well where I draw from cerulean waters;
Chablis of the worn out grape harvester,
your eyes intoxicate me;
You are the solace granted to the weary me,
the balm of my heart;
I accept to be a castaway with no beacon for guidance,
as long as I wreck in your coasts;
how delightful it is to abandon oneself!

At times...
I see your very beauty shape shift before my eyes,
my soul mate...
Could it be this alchemy we tried to achieve on?
Has Hermes Trismegistus given away his secret?
May this shaft of light traverse us endlessly,
as dusk never befall our zenith