As I lay here restive. I cannot help but conjecture what could come to pass.
Thy dimpled simper, impales my soul and elicits bliss in my *****
Oh! The butterflies, how they flutter inside me, yearning their sweet, rightful release.
Ah, it cannot be, has this young mistress vexed this dispassionate beast?
Do I dare brave ask if I am worthy of such a divine, angelic monarch?
I ask thee, do I dare reflect on my chaotic life; do I dare torture myself, knowing I will falter.
Alas, I must!
I must attempt to become the merit. I must become her love, her heart, her soul, her reason to be...her King.
For she is...My Queen.
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 3:40 PM UTC
As I lay here restive. I cannot help but conjecture what could come to pass.
Thy dimpled simper, impales my soul and elicits bliss in my *****
Oh! The butterflies, how they flutter inside me, yearning their sweet, rightful release.
Ah, it cannot be, has this young mistress vexed this dispassionate beast?
Do I dare brave ask if I am worthy of such a divine, angelic monarch?
I ask thee, do I dare reflect on my chaotic life; do I dare torture myself, knowing I will falter.
Alas, I must!
I must attempt to become the merit. I must become her love, her heart, her soul, her reason to be...her King.
For she is...My Queen.
