Work Text:
The sweet nothings given,
Whispers shared in the dark.
For thee, on any quest would I embark.
I concede, love sickness hath claimed me, bedridden.
To this fair poet, ‘tis simply not right
That one could consume every waking thought.
Unto thee, never through me, shall thou be caught,
For thy free spirit springs upon me a new fight.
‘Tis thee that I confide in,
And only thee’s soul that which captivate me so.
Thine universe, destiny, invokes in me such thorough
Wonder, so much so, I feel thine own adoration begin.
Thou is thine Universe, and thine Universe is thee.
Thou is’t loved, as love is thou.