I was never a fond of love;
I never invited it into my bed,
nor gave it my tears.
Not that it would ask.
And yet tears I do now give,
To a man who never asked nor incited such feelings.
Feelings that crowd my mind,
And weigh my chest down.
With uncontrolled emotions that spire into fires of passion.
Pretty words seeming so small to describe,
the obsolete moment of truth that banishes dreams for reality.
Oh how the light so gently touches you,
and that smile.
That gives me a smile of my own.
This is a tragedy of situation my friend.
Sorrow for joy;
my dear Endymion.