Adoration's Price

Of lavish love the poets write to whom their love bestow But what of love and what it's like to be the one who is adored? I've known this staggered heart an adoration one yields divine and of this sacred sacrament took part then retreated from its faith like mine Once, before illusions of protection veiled by confident speech crumbled wholly thou innocent projection of the visions it had seen Showered with waters sweetened earnest till it's naked wells drank tears like rain yet the soul of the one who's heart was burnished now reflected fear that must flee all impression of pain An object of worship at the core 'twas meant for The Lord on high of men and angels a gift explored for the imperfect begs the question of why? And yet once loved with adoration furnished with a reverence meant for God what hope remains to know raptures imitation but for the masquerade of a clever facade? Perhaps this explains why poets express extravagant love only given such devotion transgress's the love it profess's and this prison is a high price for the wisdom