Bettersweet Romance

He yelled at me in Ewe, my friend. I asked him to calm down. Such an accent, powerful and forceful, It fired me up, igniting a desire: Passionate love with him, that's my aim. For this, he'll need a bouquet of flowers, A gesture to mend the death of love! I'm weary of waiting, Boundaries blurred; no limits seen. But patience prevails—good things await. The Israelites sought a king, And the Queen will welcome him to her chambers. His voice softens, realization dawning, My love needs solitude and respect. My poems serve as my sanctuary, Words of a woman in pain or perhaps love. He yelled at me in Ewe, A language I can't comprehend. Bittersweet romance, tangled and mysterious.