The creator of my story.
The fire of my desire.
Lovely Rose , rose of all hues,
Woken up by fresh dew.
Did I call her with funny 'Darling' name? No.
Did I ever call her 'Rose'? Never.
I dared to lose my honey fresh Daring Beloved.
The rough sketch of my life or the spark of her beauty.
The smacking taste of her glistering skin.
Or the light brunette movement of her hair.
Or the unexplored quest of her lively ,lovely features.
My soul is wherever she goes, Even if I die .
Oh! My Desired Death.