By the mist of the mystic moon
My soul is drawn to cryptic rune.
The voice of Night engulfs the cries
Of Hope cast upon darkened skies.
Lo, lure of love whispers my name,
Where mesmerized, where without shame...
I walk a blind man towards the ledge
To call her bluff, nay, seal my pledge!
A prism glowing by the cloud
Of rainbow white donned to a shroud.
A veil of light that steals all sight
Calls for the sacrifice tonight.
Whimsical winds enhance the plea,
In chance Romance might dance for me.
By every sorrow wrongly wrung
About my neck the curse been hung.
By swollen boasts left to languish
In generic self-sought anguish.
Who left there would yet improvise
To please the lust upon her eyes.
As voiceless words encircle me
In call to forespent reverie.
Who left there could yet satiate
This burning Midnight Magistrate?
Dare I dream envision how,
By bead of sweat formed to my brow?
Can this need be hers, yet be mine?
Why does it seem I pine to pine?
Breaking every conceptive rule,
To walk her line, again the fool;
Or spread my wings, flying yet bold
To touch that which I ne'er could hold.
[This message has been edited by Michael (edited 03-24-2000).]