The thoughts that spark,
the Spark in the Dark.
A Line the Poet writes,
the Beauty that strikes.
I feel 'em in you.
You are the Notion to my Realisation.
Your name that speaks
and echoes through gorges deep.
Your eyes that blink
and force me to think-
You're beauty uncharred.
You are the Essence of my Inspiration.
Aren't you the mystic Queen?
Or for least the Princess serene? ?
Have I not felt you in some myth?
Or the one, for ages, i've been with? ?
Are you really there? I feel
You're the Mistress of my Imagination.
But you seem so alive.
For your glimpse each day, I survive.
You are, in someway, assorted with the air
I breathe and yet, was never aware.
Yes, O dear, now I know
You surely are, The patron of my Animation.
You are an enigmatic Sensation.
And my definition to Perfection.
You are my Castle of Spain;
Forget it, you're much tougher to explain.
Whatever you are,
You are my Eternal Satisfaction...