Words Deceit; My Love Cannot
The words may deceit, my love cannot
Blades sharpen, making fonts bigger front
I am, to think, that, be careful of some a lot
Every words count, read, the versatility with doubt
I am here, to present my love. Even words cannot bend
Where I could see your beauty without lies to tend
Yes, to think that words deceit, but my eyes not laid
Words damage one self, after an argument-- a freight
I could ever lie that I am not hurt, feelings never sort
Words may deceit, how I see you would never forfeit
The beauty, what my soul sweep, my eyes turn swift
You, many times to say that, I felt deceit, what hurt me the most forthwidth.
You're the assumption, I go with; Hume never expected
You're the substance, Spinoza would hate to change, I will debate it
Descartes is convinced that beauty is subjective. Yet, he's too elusive
As me, you're the beauty, I would ever try to object with.
May every philosopher hate me to think irrational
Yet to think every one of them sways out of nature, I'll over universals
Your beauty would be a sunset, night, and sunrise.
The sensation, God satiated. For me to say I have beauty to fantasize
Nini, if I have to be with you, I will tackle every ever opportunity to seize
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