Mucking through mud-filled mires of misery
Where souls cursed and scorned grapple me.
Years have I become their soul-intact enemy
Long, long before the bond of you-and-me
Upon waking, you slither above me
You expect me to write of you happily
a Confucian bond, acquired
\’Tween a muse and her inspired
My inspiration my muse
My ray of hope for good use
I shall write for you every time
Bringing the minds wonders to the sublime
Your Hollywoodian, ancient-civilization
Type of exoticism
Which any girl would have face-fanning I-love-her worship
While I am held within your purple-eyed grip
Bewitches any man who meets your gaze
And turns our journey to you into a wondrous maze
If I am not worthy of your pick
I shall be branded quixotic
Among the nations born-to-die
Who see desolation with fated eyes
Rules a queen loved and feared
Who can render hearts and minds sheared