Mysterious orbs, enthralling eyes
Lovely hands feared by demise
With a touch that turns tumult to ease
Each gentle caress calms infuriated seas
Raven locks soft against fingertips
Fetching curves on a pair of rosy lips
A voice mellifluous like an angel's, divine
A smile more radiant than a ray of sunshine
Every movement manifests innate grace
The light at the end of a tenebrous maze
The embodiment of one's romantic dreams,
But my hands are about to rip your elation's seams
You are perfect - perfectly flawed
An act the audience would barely applaud
Tongue soaked in a well of profanities
A lacerated soul plotting atrocities
Tousled hair, pernicious hands
Your sanity gallops on feeble strands
Frivolous antics deem you ignominious
But how you handle agony is stupendous
Perhaps it is why he is utterly enamored
Hymns of love in his mind sauntered
Your presence drives away his blues
You fit impeccably as his muse
From a distance, a scenic perfection
I spew no confession but unadulterated admiration
Lucky is he who holds your heart
I am but a spectator awaiting the story's subsequent part
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 9:21 AM UTC
Mysterious orbs, enthralling eyes
Lovely hands feared by demise
With a touch that turns tumult to ease
Each gentle caress calms infuriated seas
Raven locks soft against fingertips
Fetching curves on a pair of rosy lips
A voice mellifluous like an angel's, divine
A smile more radiant than a ray of sunshine
Every movement manifests innate grace
The light at the end of a tenebrous maze
The embodiment of one's romantic dreams,
But my hands are about to rip your elation's seams
You are perfect - perfectly flawed
An act the audience would barely applaud
Tongue soaked in a well of profanities
A lacerated soul plotting atrocities
Tousled hair, pernicious hands
Your sanity gallops on feeble strands
Frivolous antics deem you ignominious
But how you handle agony is stupendous
Perhaps it is why he is utterly enamored
Hymns of love in his mind sauntered
Your presence drives away his blues
You fit impeccably as his muse
From a distance, a scenic perfection
I spew no confession but unadulterated admiration
Lucky is he who holds your heart
I am but a spectator awaiting the story's subsequent part
