This love, is marvellous;
Limping over to see the end if its lust;
This resolve, is meant for us;
Others are treacherous and so lost.

This breathing becomes intense;
When you stand afoot my doorpost;
This can not be love in pretence;
I long for you by the day and so poised.

You are the air that I breathe;
How so, for its only you that I see;
You are the heir that I need;
More so, with you I can walk on the sea.

Let me be your elegant Beast;
Your beauty, the pageantry feast;


By:
Beryl Ace

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