Amber rays; she lights up his countenance
And it greys when she's gone
But my colour is my creator's lot
When she walked by his heart
It habaneras to its rhythm
And as usual, I just enjoyed the interplay
She is Aphrodites, personified
He is her faithful fautor
And I am the created creator
But on dooms day, the creator
Shall judge not only beauty
And her fautor; but also I
Categories:
fautor, analogy,
Form: I do not know?