I.
My Rosaline,
Where are you,
while I suffer through tragic hours of endless, sinister morning?
While you are away from me,
I sit here trying to scribe my ineffable thoughts, emotions, passion.
Wasting away.
Instead, should seek you?
Lend Cupid my sight?
So that he may find you,
in this darkness,
pin-point the source of your incredible beauty and release an arrow,
where it will pierce through your heart, the insidious poison of my love trickling through your veins.
Then, maybe you will be able to find me too.
Then, maybe,
maybe you will be mine.
If only…
-
My dearest Diana,
must your graceful, nimble heart venture so,
so far from my own?